


Goat Song

by LordKnowsImOnlyHuman



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bad Touch Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, Body Worship, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Force-Feeding, M/M, Masturbation, Non Consensual Cross Dressing, Non-Consensual Bondage, Pining, Rape/Non-con Elements, Somnophilia, Stalking, Tentacles, Unrequited Love, daemon sex, kinda alternate universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-05-24 04:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordKnowsImOnlyHuman/pseuds/LordKnowsImOnlyHuman
Summary: Obsession drives Ardyn both in love and in revenge. In his bid to regain his rightful place as ruler of Lucis and destroy the royal line in the process, Ardyn takes a position as adviser to an unsuspecting Regis. During his years in Insomnia his hatred boiled and frothed until the Astrals sent him poetry made flesh. In time, Ardyn's obsession became as much about possessing Promto Argentum as it did repaying a betrayal. Prompto would come to worship him, whether the boy wanted it or not.





	1. The Red Sun Rises Like an Early Warning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction as well as my first foray into the Final Fantasy XV fandom in general. I have done a very shallow proof-read of this chapter, one that will get deeper when time allows. If I didn't post it now, I would probably talk myself out of it. I'm not saying to excuse mistakes, just saying that there are probably many.
> 
> I have this work planned to the end, but updates will almost assuredly be slow. So, to anyone that this story might appeal to, I am terribly sorry in advance for the snail's pace that you can expect. But it will be finished.

Though bordering on self-indulgent, the boy looked like a sunflower. Ardyn thought that from the first moment he saw Prompto Argentum. Perhaps a life as long as Ardyn’s created signs and symbols where none existed, but Prompto Argentum turned his eyes skyward and flourished in the light. Ardyn knew that from the first moment he saw the boy. The midday of summer in Insomnia was as brutal as it was quiet. Ardyn found time to rearrange the archives, and he ferried books from room to room for most of the day. The repetition had put even his considerable strength to straining, stacks grew smaller and smaller as the morning hours waned thin into the dry-high heat of the afternoon. Had he not stopped he would have missed them.

From the lofty entrance of the Citadel the unmistakable drag of Prince Noctis’ shoes had Ardyn’s eyes rolling. He sat a stack of books and documents on some ostentatious console table while he caught his breath, watching the prince make his way inside with the sort of hand-in-pockets aloofness that dogged the boy only when he was entirely focused on impressing someone. That someone came in behind him, looking guilty as a thief, with his hands bunched together around his abdomen, arms flat against his sides like he feared his mere presence would send millions of gil worth of artwork and antiques flying into crumbled heaps on the floor.

The idea that Noctis had a friend was novel and amusing enough that Ardyn rested an arm on his stack of books and pushed a sticky lock of hair out of his eyes, watching them go by from his alcove. Noctis kept a sort of disrespectful distance from his blond tagalong, too consumed with his desire to appear unaffected by his own finery to bother noticing how uncomfortable his company was. How like the little brat, Ardyn thought.

The blond made a token effort to not look like a tourist, but curiosity killed the cat, so they say. The boy looked up, around, searched the wide entry hall while worrying his lower lip until he spotted Ardyn. Suddenly he stopped and raised one hand in, what Ardyn assumed, was a stiff wave. Ardyn couldn’t bring himself to move. That face was a revelation, those colours so unusual in Lucis, those eyes so bright and nervous. His fingers curled back in on themselves. Ardyn took in every detail of the way this boy moved, how he looked so wounded at being ignored before realizing that he had nearly lost the prince. He dashed away down the hall, concern for his space dissipating in the fear of being left behind.

In the long years of Ardyn’s life, he learned that the gods had the most disgusting sense of humor. His relief had been the assurance that the world was merely a blanket of darkness where only despair and suffering could exist. His solace in the knowledge that no being on his gods forsaken planet deserved to be thought of as more than cannon fodder, mere means to an end. The gods had spat in his face time and time again, and then they gave Ardyn Prompto Argentum. There inside him budded the sick twist of hope that he had carefully buried under his frothing hatred.

He had to steady himself against his books, had to bring a hand up to his chest. That smile glowed like the sun, awkward as it was. The drab, black melancholy of the citadel did nothing to quiet that nervous energy, did nothing but heighten the pale majesty of a boy so out of place. Such honesty in every motion of his body. The scratch and shredding sound of paper brought Ardyn back to his senses as his nails bit through the hard cover of the top book, tearing into the pages underneath.  
Just when he though the gods could not be any more cruel, they sent him an angel in the flesh.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Regis had never looked worse. Despite his once hale and hearty appearance, the lines around his eyes had grown deep and the shock white of his hair lost its luster to the ravages of age, stress, and the crystal sitting fat and content to feed on the life blood of those sworn to protect it. The irony was entirely too delicious.

Regis leaned heavily on one arm as he looked down at the table, tracing lines on paper with his free hand. His lips moved, but Ardyn did not care to try to make out Regis’ words. A heavy air of concern hung around the room, and both men waited for the other to speak first, but Ardyn possessed patience in droves. Regis sat, lowering himself delicately, but a wince stretched across his mouth, crinkled the lines around his eyes. Excitement sparked in Ardyn’s throat, but he kept his features schooled neutral. “Ardyn, I’m afraid for what time we have left.” Regis clasped his hands on the table. He looked every bit as much the grim reaper as the damned coat of arms. “Stability and negotiations are breaking down more and more by the day.”

Ardyn sat in one of the highbacked, gloss-black chairs just as Regis slid a leaf of paper towards him, the edges crinkled and worried. “My, my, your majesty. It seems that our friends in the Empire are ‘not fooling around’.” If Ardyn’s callous disregard for the possible murder of a diplomat concerned Regis, the king did not let on. “You intend to retaliate in kind, I suppose?”

“Hardly, though I find your cavalier attitude worrisome. Killing diplomats has not, historically, gone over well.”

Ardyn raised his hands in surrender and flashed the king a relaxed smile. “I’d be a poor advisor indeed if I jumped immediately to all out war, your majesty. I suppose my jest was in bad taste. As for the letter, there is very little to suggest that our man was outright assassinated. If that is the case, the most likely culprits are the citizenry.”

“Still, Ardyn, a diplomat under my care has turned up dead on what is essentially a good will mission to a country with increasing hostility towards us. Would not acting be viewed as weakness? This is not the time to turn the other cheek but increasing hostilities would only result in more bloodshed.” The stress on Regis’ face was only heightened by the streaming light coming in through the tall windows. Ardyn thought that the room was entirely too hot, considered shirking his jacked for a moment, but if Regis was stubbornly inclined to stay fully decked out in sweltering, black parade gear then Ardyn was not about to admit defeat.

“Your majesty, perhaps we could revisit my previous suggestion.”

Regis’ mouth formed the start of a ‘no’ but it quickly faded into a grim line across his face. “It was always my wish that Noctis choose a proper wife, live a life uncomplicated by the threads of political matrimony.” The thought had taken root. Ardyn could clearly see the guilty agony that twisted inside Regis’ skull. The palpable unhappiness practically danced across Ardyn’s tongue, flashes of satisfaction nearly set his chest to clenching. Little Prince Noctis a political pawn for his father in a war that would ultimately destroy the family and Insomnia? Fewer and fewer obstacles stood between Ardyn and his rightful claim, stood between him and his angel made flesh. Was this what impatience felt like? To be so close. So close to the weight of that crown. So close to that warm little body against his chest.

“Options run thin, your majesty.” Ardyn held out a hand to him, palm up, looking reasonable. “I have witnessed the prince’s life. I take no pleasure in seeing it forced in one particular direction, but a marriage is hardly the most unpleasant outcome. The prince and the oracle have a long and positive history, one that will no doubt make them amenable to the possibility of marriage.”

“Ardyn, do you think Noctis loves her?”

A light of interest sparked behind Ardyn’s eyes, his smile grew wider and more meaningful. “He will learn to, your majesty.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bonus XP days kept Prompto going like nothing else! He’d been so eager to get his hands back on his phone that his jittery behavior earned him an extra two mile run during training to ‘temper all that energy.’ Little did the other trainees know, but Prompto was AMAZING at running. Like, easily in the top ten percent of runners except maybe for the ones that did that kind of thing for money or who had, like, extra long legs or extra big lungs. He got in a good victory whoop at the end of the run despite how his chest had that nice after-run burn that made him feel kind of choked up.

He still had enough energy to run up to Noct’s suite after all of it, flipping Noct off the couch in a show of all that strength he’d been working on. Noct looked like a disgruntled animal, awoken from its pillow-fort couch-top slumber, so Prompto snapped a picture on his phone for posterity and maybe to laugh at with Gladio later. Noct growled something about not showing it to Gladio, which was kinda not fun, but nonetheless not so disappointing that Prompto didn’t dive onto the couch shouting “DOUBLE XP DAY!”

He brandished his phone like a weapon, complete with ‘whoosh’ sound effect, and patted the empty space on the couch. “Dude, you’re not even out of your pajamas. No way Iggy just let you lay around like that all day.”

“Specs had other stuff to do. And don’t judge me. It’s called a self-care day.”

Prompto looked his best friend over, taking in the ruffled hair, haunted eyes, and paying particular attention to just how pale Noct was getting. “A self-care day where you didn’t care enough to brush your hair? C’mon, you gotta look more presentable than that. You got guests today!”

“Not guests. Guest. And that’s you. And I don’t care.” He flopped more than sat on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. He watched Prompto with his spooky-eye look like he was daring him to talk anymore about how screwy Noct was looking. Prompto tried to ignore how much the ‘don’t care’ stung his edges by nudging Noct’s shoulder and urging him to pull out his phone.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, any excuse not to brush your teeth. If you aren’t gonna look pretty for me, can you at least help me with this level I’m stuck on?”

Noct wordlessly pulled out his phone and moved a little closer to Pompto’s side to better see both screens. Noct’s was a whirlwind of powerups that had Prompto furrowing his brow. “Dude, how much prime regalite did you buy?” It always seemed so cheaty to just buy that stuff, but Prompto imagined that was just because he was poor and had to justify his flagging gaming… game by insisting that a disposable income positively corelated with King’s Knight progress. Nothing was better than raw skill, though! On an even playing field Prompto could probably kick Noct’s ass. Not Gladio’s, though. Dude was an absolute sleeper champion of just about everything. Iggy would probably be good at it too… but he was also the kind of person that did number crunching and spent fifty hours a day mapping out microscopic numbers in Mooglemon to make his Meekachu one iota faster than normal.

Why did Iggy have to turn everything into a job?

“Prompto!”

He looked up at Noct, who looked down at him with a fine lined frown on his face. “I said do you want any?”

Prompto blinked and stared at Noct’s phone. The screen was opened on Noct’s character page. Confused, Prompto quirked a brow. Noct heaved a sigh so heavy that it caused a pressure shift severe enough to collapse an unsuspecting farmer’s roof a hundred miles away. “Regalite. Do you want any? I can just buy some for you. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal.”

“Dude, you do know it kind of defeats the purpose if you just pay the game to play itself, right?”

Noct snorted, but it sounded light and easy enough that Prompto knew he’d managed to make his best friend smile a little. He leaned back into the super expensive couch that made a lot of effort to not look expensive and fooled around on his phone for a bit while Noct did whatever it was that Noct did when he wasn’t feeling up to King’s Knight. Do princes look at porn? Or window shop? No, Prompto knew that Noct window shopped on his phone all the time. One time he’d been watching an auction for a statue of Ray Jack so closely that Prompto was pretty sure Noct’s eyes had started bleeding. In the end he lost the auction to some guy named ‘BlingAndJournalism,’ who Noct swore he would hunt down and cast into the sea with ‘enough fury to destroy Eos about fifty times.’

Prompto was trying to do the math in his head when he felt Noct sling an arm around his shoulders and lean over, flashing his screen in Prompto’s face. “I saw this thing that’s going on at one of the museums. It’s something, something, important photographers of Insomnia something. I was looking at some of their stuff and you’re at least as good as these guys. Wanna go see it and laugh at their inferiority?”

“Don’t say it like they aren’t good.” Honestly, Prompto was starting to feel a little flustered and awkward hearing even the slightest hint that Noctis believed in his talent. It wasn’t the first time either. There was that one time that Iggy told Prompto that a shot of the city from atop the wall had ‘exquisite composition’ and ‘a great deal of patience and artistry to achieve such effective lighting.’ Prompto just laughed so hard that he almost dropped his camera on the crisscross black and white tile with the fancy p name that he never remembered. “But I’d like to go see it. Noct how would someone destroy Eos fifty times?”

“What? I don’t know. The logistics of that sort of thing are kind of ridiculous, aren’t they? Like, how does the world come back fifty times? And does someone have to wait a full blow… what, evolutionary cycle?” Prompto shrugged, so Noct just went on. “You know until there are people and stuff all over the place before they can do it again?”

“Maybe you’d just hit Eos with fifty world destroying meteors all at once?”

Noct raised a perfectly coiffed eyebrow from behind his meticulously uncoiffed hair. Too cool to be super groomed, but gotta have the brows on point. It’d just look silly and lazy if one had bedhead AND bed eyebrows. “How would you get fifty world destroying meteors?”

“Big rope?”

“Really big rope.”

“I’m not asking because I wanna do it or something. Unless I could go and ranch chocobos on the sun.” Prompto flashed his eyes back to his screen, watching his little wizard dude die horribly. Again. It had happened so many times on the one level that he couldn’t even bring himself to care very much. The gray dungeon was his life now. The stones were his friends. They all had names and personalities and favorite colours. To move on would be like leaving behind a beloved puppy. “I’d take all the chocobos to space with me and we’d just live a… uh… cholic existence?”

“I believe the word you are looking for is ‘bucolic,’ and I suspect you would find that difficult on the sun.”

Prompto bounced off the couch to meet Ignis at the door. Noct’s nanny looked more haggard than usual, but he had this weird thing where his clothes and hair and everything were always perfect even if there was something behind his sparkly-clean glasses that was begging for the sweet embrace of death. Iggy looked like that when he had to chaperone at the arcade.

“I could be bucolic on the sun. It’s all a state of mind!”

“By definition, no. Now, Prompto, would you mind motivating Noctis enough to put on a pair of actual pants. I’m afraid I was short on time this afternoon and neglected to purchase groceries.”

“Kay. Hey, Noct!”

A grunt in response.

“Get dressed! We’re getting snacks!”

Prompto felt more than saw Ignis roll his eyes as he sat his purse down on the counter and started to empty sheaves of paper out of it. Prompto plodded along behind him, watching him produce enough paperwork to swell a bag of holding beyond capacity. If Prompto had been counting, it was probably about four novels of considerable length worth of papers. Maybe nine novels of trivial length worth.

“Yeesh, Iggy. Big day?”

Iggy pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Usually when Promto saw that action, he was the cause, but he was fairly certain he hadn’t done anything yet to earn it. “Sorry, dude. Must have been.”

“I don’t want to bore you with the details, Prompto. Suffice it to say that it was a big day, and there will be many more to come. I appreciate your concern.” The smile that Iggy flashed wasn’t a solid one, but he rarely spared smiles for Promto at all. It earned a warm spready feeling in Prompto’s chest that was probably the onset of a heart attack. Prompto looked back at the stack of papers. Even though he scanned them quickly, he saw the Empire mentioned several times and sighed.

“Hey, Iggy? Now that I’m Crownsgaurd and all, can you tell me stuff about this? Is the stuff with the Empire really getting that bad?”

Though he looked pained to admit it, Iggy nodded. In the background the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut. Noct was kind of a princess about showers and stuff, they’d have time.

“You are not quite Crownsguard yet, Prompto. But I believe your closeness to the crown allows for a measure of, shall we say, access. The situation with the Empire is a dangerous and delicate one.” Iggy looked Prompto over with that kind of big brother affection that made Prompto want to stand up on his toes or something. He leaned over to look at the first page, but there were a ton of words he didn’t recognize, so he quickly lost interest.

“Sooo… What can I do?”

Prompto didn’t think he was personally up to taking on the whole Empire, but it wasn’t as though he couldn’t at least try! Iggy was stifling laughter. That… hurt, but Prompto guessed he understood. It was a dumb question.

“Keeping your prince entertained and in good mental health is an important enough job, Prompto. You know, he is never quite so happy as when he’s with you.” That probably wasn’t true, but Prompto allowed the sentiment to make his stomach all warm and weird anyway. It… it felt really good to be of use to someone. Even if he really was just kind of Noct’s puppy or something. “You cannot take the world on your shoulders when you already carry the weight of the crown and those that wear it.”

Iggy always said such pretty words. Prompto wished he could talk like that, just say genuine things as though they were things that people actually said for no reason other than it was true. Like, how he wished he could tell Iggy that he admired how clean he kept his glasses! Even though that wasn’t exactly at the heart of what he meant. It was close enough.

“Your glasses are super clean, Iggy.” Nailed. It.

His lips felt like they were on fire and also glued together as he watched Iggy try to piece together what he meant, so he just kept talking. “Like, you don’t have to do that! Just keep them all clean. If I wore them they’d be covered in food dust and dirt all the time. Or I’d accidentally wear them swimming, or leave them on my face when I’m sleeping, or feed them to a dog, or have them stolen off my face by a chocobo.” Prompto was infinitely thankful for how neutral and patient Iggy kept his face.

“That is to say that you admire my fastidiousness?”

“Probably! That sounds like something I’d admire.” Prompto felt a smile growing despite how he wished his mouth would stop. Iggy got it! Iggy always got it! Prompto wished that he could get things like that, fill in all the stupid gaps that people made sometimes. He reminded himself to look up what the fuck fastidiousness was later.

“Thank you, Prompto.”

The silence around them became the kind that someone could cut with a knife, but only a really, really sharp one. Prompto drummed his fingers on the table and counted the little swirly bits in the dark wood. He only got to nine before Iggy spoke. “Did Noctis tell you about the photography exhibit?”

“Yup. Sure did. He asked me to go. It’s nice since it really isn’t his thing.” Did sleeping and fishing count as things? As far as Prompto was concerned fishing may as well be sleeping. “I’m surprised that he invited me to step foot away from his couch, to be honest. That’s not usually how the Noct man operates.”

A door flew open behind them and Prince Noct in all of his sleepy-eyed glory graced the table with his presence. “Okay, ready. Real pants and everything. Can we just get this over with?” He leaned over the table and buried all his attention back in his phone. “Gotta help Prompto with a level he can’t beat in King’s Knight.”

“I could totally beat it!”

“Okay, then I won’t help you.”

Prompto knew his face was turning into a pout, but the full blow grin that Noctis shot his way was well worth the little threat. He really couldn’t help but smile back. Somehow, Noct looked a lot less pale when he smiled, and that beat double XP days by miles.

People out in the world liked Noct because of his title, because he was handsome. Relationships with Noct could be a gamble. Sometimes he trusted outright (mostly girls), sometimes he just blatantly ignored people that tried to talk to him. Prompto not only managed to get close to him, but sometimes even got to be the reason the prince smiled. He loved that. Loved that Noct’s face looked lighter, that his whole body stopped turning in like some kind of emotionally stunted turtle creature. Sometimes Iggy and Gladio smiled too, and that was a serious bonus.

Were court jesters still a thing? Maybe he should consider a change in career.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Shopping with Iggy was the biggest fucking pain, Noct swore. It was always about ‘nutritional value’ this and ‘caloric intake’ that, as though any of that meant anything. To Noct it mostly just sounded like an excuse to keep people from enjoying food. Both Prompto and Gladio assured him that nutrition was actually a thing, and he had read about it a few times. Maybe there was something to it. But fuck broccoli.

Noct liked the parts of the stores that had the little metallic plastic bags with mascots and shit on the front, but the place that Iggy dragged them to was like something out of a book. It was all black tents and it was like they didn’t sell anything but vegetables and fish. Prompto had wandered off to take pictures of rows of apples or something, and Noctis found himself watching his back with the same sort of fascination that he always felt. Even on days like this when Noct didn’t want anyone around him, Prompto never failed to get him out; he eased the nothing for at least a little while.

A man in a biker jacket slammed into his arm and hissed out something rude. Noct felt himself growling in his throat and almost lashed out at the man when he felt a familiar gloved hand on his shoulder. Iggy stood behind him, one arm propping up a bag of colourful plants that were probably going to be dinner.

“No need to make a scene, Noct,” Iggy said in his ear before steering him out of the walkway Noct had every right to consider a standway. “I was advised by certain parties that letting you pick something out might raise your spirits a bit.”

“It looks like I have a choice of carrots, carrots, some seedy looking tomatoes, and sad apples,” Noct replied dismally, landing his withering gaze on a wooden crate full of dirty looking… potatoes? Is this what organic was? The chemical stuff always looked bigger, cleaner, and had more neon colours. They even had some kind of frilly mystery mushroom that Prompto probably already took pictures of. It looked more like an alien than food. And there were people fucking buying them! Not just gawking in abject horror.

“Woah.” Prompto leaned down toward the mushroom and picked up a row of it. “Yo, Noct, you know what this is?” He looked back down at the mushroom with that exceptionally endearing look on his face. It took a moment for Noct to realize that he was actually supposed to answer. 

“Uh… No. I do not know what that is.”

“Me either. I mean… the technical stuff. It’s called chicken of the woods! It’s not too common around here. Like, at all.” He flipped it over and then looked up at Iggy making a ridiculous face complete with pouting lower lip. “Can we try it?”

Iggy looked down at Prompto the same way Noctis looked at math problems. The two had some kind of secret mind battle before Iggy sighed deeply and took the weird mushroom from Prompto’s hand. “Alright. But only if his highness would consider it his pick.”

Noct gave a token look at the stalls another time without moving his feet, not that he could really see anything around all of the shopping people. He made a humming noise. The look Prompto shot him was utterly begging. That face was so cute Noct probably would have given in if he hadn’t decided to already. “Sure, whatever. As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

Prompto punched the air and a pleased flush lit up the freckles across his nose like a constellation. Noct felt his breath getting caught in his throat for a moment. When Prompto smiled like that little lines appeared around his eyes and his long eyelashes brushed against the ridges of his cheekbones. Who the hell got that excited about a fucking mushroom?

A shadow suddenly appeared, having much the same effect as a cloud passing over the sun, but it didn’t have the decency to move.

“Good afternoon, Advisor Izunia,” Iggy said with a rigid, shallow bow complete with hand across his abdomen. Great. The giant yak man and his jacket. Noct turned around, expecting to find the weirdo staring at him, but no. He was looking at Prompto who had reclaimed his fucking mushroom.

“Good afternoon, Ignis. And our new little trainee.” He swept by Noct with a small bow of the head to lurk over Prompto’s shoulder. “Excellent choice. Laetiporus sulphureus is an exquisite find with a great deal of applications both in cooking and in medicine. Let me guess, was it the colour that drew you to it?”

“Uhh… Well, not just that. I saw it in a book once. Thought it looked a bit like a chocobo from behind and it’s got the word ‘chicken’ in it, so it’s probably good.” Prompto looked so uncomfortable, his face was that peach colour of not quite blushing, and he was toying with the short hair on the back of his neck. Noct felt the overwhelming desire to step closer (protectively?) to Prompto and push the daemon away from him. Fuck! Ardyn was so fucking creepy! Talking to Prompto about fucking mushrooms.

“All good reasons, most certainly.” Ardyn put one of his crazy, big, monster hands on Prompto’s back, making him jump. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Ardyn chuckled and held up his hands, instead moving to speak to Ignis about business or something else super fucking boring.

Prompto came to Noct’s side, looking a little shaken, but not as disturbed as Noct felt about it. “Weird that someone like the advisor eats real food, you know? Like, you’d think he’s a book worm or something. He just eats book dust and collects dew from the courtyard in the morning.” Prompto waved at a woman casting them an annoyed look and she immediately chilled out. “C’mon, dude. Can’t just stand here in everyone’s way.” He took Noct’s arm in his long, warm hand and dragged him off into one of the many little alcoves. Usually they were full of people having conversations, but they managed to slip into a fairly shady, mostly unoccupied crook between a café and a cobbler.

“Augh! That guy is such a creep!” Noct finally said, and it felt so good to get it out.

Prompto laughed, but his brows were knit together. “For real? I think he’s kinda cool. It’s like he’s a dictionary or something.” He suddenly started flipping through his phone with the hand that wasn’t occupied with the mushroom. “Excessively particular. Critical, or demanding. Hard to please: a fastidious eater. Requiring or characterized by excessive care or delicacy; painstaking.”

“What?”

“Fastidiousness!”

“Okay, but why?”

Prompto beamed, and Noct felt his heart stutter in his chest. No human being had any right to look like that. Someone out there or up there had to have made a mistake in sending someone so pretty to Eos. Noct had known long before that he loved Prompto in a way that made Noct more than a little uncomfortable. “That’s something that I like about Iggy. His fastidiousness.”

Noct wasn’t sure why he bothered asking anymore. Prompto clearly had an allergy to straight answers, or else his mind was just a tangle. Either answer was fine. Noct liked it. Noct liked Prompto. The blond’s face glowed in the sunlight. He looked so fucking happy just standing there with his stupid mushroom.

Noct wanted to see that every day of his life.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Gladio go roped into making dinner with Iggy. Prompto sat behind them on one of the stools, chin propped up on the heels of his hands watching their progress. Noct’s in-suite kitchen wasn’t particularly large, and Gladio’s behemoth body ate up a solid most of it. Prompto usually played sous chef, but he seemed content enough to just watch. Better that way anyway. He always spilled something, and Iggy insisted that Noct be ‘responsible’ and clean it, as though the mess wouldn’t still be there when they were done cooking. Noct gave up on trying to get Promto to play King’s Knight with him after he flapped his hand and said “shh, I’m learning what a flambé is.” That sounded stupid enough that Noct wanted no part in it, so he just waited until they were done and played with Prompto over dinner for about twenty seconds before Iggy threatened to confiscate their phones.

“I could just pull rank on you, you know.”

“Yes, your majesty, but we both know that you have no desire to learn how to do laundry.”

Iggy had a point. Was there any other person alive that could say something like ‘your majesty’ and make it sound like acid? The exchange had Prompto giggling so hard that he choked on his mushroom. Something in the way Iggy went quiet at the sound made Noct uncomfortable, so he reached over and pounded Prompto on the back a few times until there was less choking and more laughing.

“Dude! For real? You can’t do laundry?”

“Can you?”

“Yeah! Totally. Separate the whites and everything.” 

Gladio snorted and stabbed a carrot. “Iggy teach you to do that, Blondie?” He bit into the carrot the same way a monster bites into innocent human flesh and Noct winced at the crunching sound. Gah, how did he eat that shit without doubling over in agony? 

“Prompto expressed a desire to learn, and I take little pleasure in the idea of him being helpless in his personal life.” And Ignis just shrugged as though he wasn’t admitting that he and Prompto hung out on their own time. Something about that settled a little hard and green in Noct’s stomach and he stared at his lap, eyes straining until he realized that he was glaring at his pants. He guessed Ignis had a lot to teach Prompto. Too much. 

“You gotta eat, man,” Prompto said. When Noct looked up he was met with those clear-blue eyes, blond brows knit in worry. “Look, I know you don’t like the stuff, but you can’t just keep pushing it around on the plate forever. You know Iggy will just make you eat it for breakfast.” 

“Indeed.” 

The only thing worse than vegetables was vegetables but later. The ‘now’ kind of vegetables at least weren’t soggy and cold. Heaving a deep sigh, Noct made a show of shoving a piece of Prompto’s dumb ass mushroom in his mouth. And it tasted the exact opposite of what he expected, but he was too deep in fuck vegetation mode to give any of the guys looking at him the satisfaction of knowing that he could die happy eating Prompto’s stupid mushroom for the rest of his life. 

Noct shrugged, immediately regretting it when a defeated look passed across Prompto’s face for a few moments. It was gone in an instant, and he lit back up when he turned to look at Ignis. “Okay, well, no go on that one. That just means I can have his, right?”

“Absolutely not. Noctis, eat your dinner.” 

Mom voice. Noct hated mom voice. But if Iggy thought that Noct was just going to eat his dinner without being utterly pouty about it, then he had another entirely unpleasant thing coming. Eventually Prompto got bored of watching Noct chewing every bite of his food forty times and wandered over to the couch, flopping onto it with his phone in his face. 

“Gods, Iggy. Just let his highness put his food away, this is getting stupid.” Gladio gathered the empty plates on the table and set to washing them while Iggy remained staring at Noct with a determined and slightly annoyed look on his face. 

“His highness forgets that I am getting paid to make sure he eats his vegetables.” Iggy crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against his forearms. Then he crossed his legs, gaze never leaving Noct. “So please, keep it up, your highness.” 

Iggy may have had all night, but Prompto didn’t. The boy was up at five A.M like some kind of heathen, and Noct intended to take full advantage of Prompto’s precious few evening hours. With a great amount of will power and a mantra in his head insisting that Noct hadn’t admitted defeat, Noct managed to finish off an entire plate of vegetables. He crashed next to Prompto on the couch after all but chucking his dishes at Gladio. 

The two played King’s Knight for a good hour before Iggy and Gladio left, but not before reminding him not to stay up too late, to stay hydrated, to take a shower, blah, blah. The door snapped shut and finally, finally, Noct had Prompto to himself. He wasn’t so completely impatient that he couldn’t wait to finish the level that Prompto had been stuck on for seventy-three years. But as soon as the victory screen played, Noct threw his phone aside and crawled into Prompto’s lap. He just laughed and readjusted himself to better accommodate the prince. He was so perfect, so easily slotted against Noct’s body, those sky-clear eyes and the brush of his soft, golden hair. 

Prompto met Noct’s lips first, with all the ease of practice and familiarity they had gained from months of experimenting with each other. Noct’s hands wormed under Prompto’s shirt, splaying across the smooth expanse of his stomach, feeling the shifting muscle, and Noct marveled at how soft his skin was, how warm against his cold hands. 

Those artist fingers tangled in Noct’s hair, urged him close to the heat of Prompto’s mouth. Twisting in his stomach and groin. Noct could feel his thighs tightening. He nudged Prompto’s legs apart and dragged their clothed erections against each other. They’d never gone so far as penetrating, but Astrals, Noct wanted to. Wanted to sink into that warm little body, tear screams and moans out of his best friend. Though blasé about it at the time, he’d felt the same longing the first time he’d ever seen Prompto, that chubby boy with his camera. That perfect face. 

He pulled up Prompto’s shirt, knowing full well that he only had seconds to take in the faded, silvery streaks across his waist before Prompto would force his clothes back down. He did, but Noct saw them. Saw his cause for shame and he wanted to kiss each faded line, but it was fine. In time. He returned his attention to Prompto’s mouth, and for the other boy’s part, his attention had not flagged despite his self-consciousness. 

Noct was happy like that. Squeezed between Prompto’s delicious thighs, their mouths connecting and full of heat, the feeling of Prompto’s fingers digging into his hair. There were words on Noct’s lips, but he kept them quiet behind the press of his tongue into Prompto’s mouth. 

In time.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
The boy’s movements were clumsy and unsure, but the inelegance of youth came hand-in-hand with its fascinating beauty. 

Ardyn sat outside the window, balanced on the extended sill, hair whipped by the wind. The image would have been positively romantic had anyone the mind to look up. But no, the ground below was full of activity, enough to keep eyes down. The sky above went dark some time ago, and the canvas of stars winked malevolently down at Eos. Or perhaps Eos down upon them. 

Beyond the window Ardyn’s ray of hope in a waking nightmare gave himself over to filthy hands. Considering the stars proved much less painful than considering the activities happening just out of reach. Oh, the things Ardyn would teach that boy. The secrets he would tell him. Those mystified eyes, wide and bright, the secrets of the universe at his fingertips bestowed upon him by a god. 

Ardyn leaned his head against the unfeeling stone of the Citadel and thought about more pleasant things. The world soon to be his, those smiles and the soft skin that his fingers would dance across. As beautiful as Prompto’s inexperience looked, Ardyn could coax him to blooming, train those twists and turns into prayers. The void in which Ardyn dwelled lighting up with such reverence and beauty.

A hand slipped under his jacket and teased his forming erection. That long, supple body writhing between Ardyn’s legs. He could nearly taste it. The rough edges of his long fingers made contact with his over-heated cock. He’d fuck that boy under the stars. Prompto would see infinity while he took his god into him. Mouth open as though awaiting communion. Ardyn would rewrite all the memories of Prince Nocts’ filthy hands on Prompto’s exquisite skin. In return Prompto would deliver Ardyn from the anguish of his endless, lonely existence. 

Perhaps the Astrals had the most disgusting sense of humor, but Ardyn touched the boy. He’d felt his warmth through Prompto’s clothes just that afternoon. Bravery and encouragement surged through Ardyn and he laughed into the warm wind, feeling alive for the first time since the Astrals turned their backs on him. The roiling hatred hissed inside him to rip the Prince’s hands off his angel. The dark voices told him to kill, to take, to own as he deserved to own. 

Ardyn had forever, though. And he sat so close to Prompto Argentum, so close that he could almost taste the salt of his skin, feel his silky body tightening around him. Ardyn came in his hand with a low sigh and untangled himself from his clothes to examine his spend by the star light. Communion, he supposed, imagining pushing his fingers into Prompto’s mouth, sliding messy and smooth past those pink lips. Would they stretch into a smile, Ardyn wondered. 

Time would tell.


	2. As They Walked Along the Road to Santiago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever fucked up so bad you had to delete twenty-two pages and just start over? As much as that hurt, it helped. So, here's chapter two. I'm eager to get into the meat of this story, and I'm getting so, so impatient. But, then I keep remembering how in need of a rewrite the first chapter is... Just like last time, this had a very shallow proof-read. I apologize for any embarrassing mistakes. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support, also! It's been incredibly uplifting and means a ton. I honestly didn't imagine this appealing to too many people, since it's just exceptionally indulgent. So, I've been admittedly a little flustered with the response. Once more, thank you so much!

Dearest Noctis, 

I have stopped and started so many times, and I fear that I shall do so many more times in the near future. I write you this letter from my own personal desk, but even familiar places feel so strange to me anymore. Directly beside my right hand is another piece of parchment, and on that one I have begun my vows. Outside, I can feel and smell the ocean. I have been watching the sunlight come in and out from behind the clouds, and there are a great many joyous voices in the streets. Would that I could count my own among them. This world is so strange, prince Noctis, and it suffers very deeply from wounds that I cannot understand. But these are wounds that I hope very much to heal. While the future holds a great many uncertainties, I am certain that the waves of time will only draw us closer together. If I know you as well as I believe, I am not alone in the disappointment I feel that the next time we shall see each other it will be to commence wedlock. From that day onward I will call you husband instead of friend.

It is with great hope and joy in my heart that I move forward to meet you as two pieces to fix an ailing world. But it is also with great sadness. No manner of thinking or council has eased me, but I believe that talking to you, at the very least, can ease my troubled mind. In these strange, strange times my calling has grown ever more important. The citizens of the Empire are ailing, Noctis, in so many ways. Our union is said to be a harbinger of peace and healing. Maybe the two of us can finally save our people from generations of struggle and pain. That thought keeps me going, as does the promise of seeing your face again after all these years. I long to meet your friends, and that boy that helped Pryna. I hope he has not forgotten me. 

Make use of the time you have left. I know that I will be taking that advice myself. We have less than a year. Remember when we were young and just one summer felt as though it could last for an eternity? Time does not work like that any longer. A year may seem like forever, but it is in fact a very short time. You have already experienced twenty of them, what will one more be? I support you, my friend, in all of your pursuits.

Go with the Six and be well, 

Lady Lunafreya

P.S: I regret to inform you that I will be away starting next week and will be unable to participate in the PvE event in King’s Knight. I would not be offended if you replaced me with someone more present. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Dear Luna, 

It’s weird. The wedding is weird, the Empire is weird, Hell, even Insomnia is getting weird. I know what you mean, though. About being happy and sad about this. I feel the same way, but under all of that, I’m glad that we’ll get to see each other again. I want to say that everyone is excited to meet you, but to be honest, we haven’t talked about it much. Since the news all of my friends have been kind of strange. Maybe it’s me that’s being strange. It’s hard to pick out exactly what the problem is, but I think it will be okay in time. I hope so anyway. And do. Not. Worry. Prompto never forgot you. He’s pretty much your biggest fan. I’m sure if we were talking about all of this he would be the most excited of all of us. 

Politics really isn’t my strong suit, but I guess that will have to change soon since I’ll be king someday. I‘m only starting to really figure this stuff out. What the Empire is like, what the Crown city really means to the people of Lucis and to the Empire. I mean, I always knew, but when you don’t have it staring in your face all the time it’s pretty easy to forget that it’s real and not just a lot of paperwork. If there’s some hope of putting all this stuff to rest, then I’m glad that it’s us that are tasked to do it. But being a piece in someone else’s game does have a bit of an edge. I know that you are more than aware of that feeling, Luna. 

Thank you. I will do my best to use the time I have left, but don’t talk about it like this is the end. You sound really… I don’t have the word, but I guess final will work. Don’t sound so final, the world will be ours for the taking when we get things cleared up. Things with us don’t have to change. But you use your year wisely too, Luna. Can’t be a bachelorette forever. 

See you soon, 

Noct

P.S: You know damn well I am not kicking you off my roster. Of all my friends, you are the only one secure enough in her femininity to play a gigant.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Royalty reveled in garishness. It never failed to amaze Ardyn how excessive and opulent one could be with only three colors; he’d bothered to notice that the lacy ceiling of the war room was gilded. Lofty and glittery just like the people that saw fit to live and work in the building’s tall, expensive walls. Taxes paid to have that ceiling cleaned. Taxes paid to have that ceiling created in the first place. Though Ardyn had never been one for excessive opulence, he could not help but eat up the suffering of the Lucians outside the Crown City’s protective little honeycomb, especially when that suffering created such a blinding juxtaposition to the gilded ceilings of the war room. 

Across the shining, dark wood table a man coughed not so politely into his fist to gather Ardyn’s attention. In an effort to annoy him, Ardyn drew his eyes from the ceiling very slowly and made sure that he smiled serenely as he did so. “Please continue, I assure you I am listening.” The words rang true, but attention did not necessarily mean interest. The man barely held the first. 

The two dwelled, casual as you please, alone together in the massive war room with the sort of table intended to house minds and swords numbering in the dozens. Ardyn sat the farthest away from the display of the map so that the little man would have to talk very loudly or move closer. Much to Ardyn’s amusement, the man had chosen to do neither. The tactician was a squat, balding man with a thick compression garment wound around one thick calf. The right side of his chest was decorated with the sorts of medals that military men earned by never firing a weapon or having to be afraid. From the moment the two made introductions that morning, Ardyn disliked him a great deal more than most of humanity. Were his machinations not already firmly in place, Ardyn would have most likely just saved the man’s shoulders the embarrassment of carrying around that overinflated head. The expensive black cane that the man walked with looked sturdy enough to make an impromptu weapon without Ardyn having to be overly obvious about his lineage. 

“Advisor Izunia, perhaps tomorrow you will be more focused? Should we conclude for the afternoon?” Now, now, was that annoyance? 

With a malicious little smile, Ardyn shook his head. “Absolutely not, were we not just discussing the potential uses of reinstating positions toward Galdin and attempting to lockdown the Norduscean border in the case of an Imperial blockade?” Ardyn crossed a leg over the other and rested one elbow on the table, fingers wide in question. “Or do you not find that subject of particular importance?” 

If the little toad was surprised or impressed he didn’t show it, just sniffed loudly and redirected his attention back to the map display. The tactician didn’t move around very much, but insisted on standing up. Ardyn fancied that the man did it just to spite him for sitting. Couldn’t be comfortable with the gout. These people loved crystals so much they may as well grow them between their bones. Not that he supposed it mattered. The incredibly expensive, very shiny chairs seemed to exist for the sole purpose of being so uncomfortable that those attending the table should stay restless with the desire to avoid sitting in them. Ardyn would be bested by no one and nothing, even if that thing happened to be furniture. 

The man went on long enough for Ardyn to decide that he really hated the vases and that he’d prefer the walls to be painted something on the cheerier side. Like yellow. Sunflower yellow. Though letting his mind turn to certain blond trainees proved tempting, Ardyn pushed the images of dimpled smiles and that dip at the base of Prompto’s spine where his hand fitted so perfectly and effortlessly… The boy would, of course, need to be punished for being so distracting. 

“Advisor Izunia!”

Unable to stop his eyes from rolling, Ardyn looked back at the man. “What?” he hissed more than said. There… that little tremble in the man’s fat lips. Though the room was wide and the heat unobtrusive, the man had to reach up and wipe the sweat off his brow. “Was that all?” Ardyn cocked his head and pursed his lips in such a way that it drew a narrowing of the eyes. “Well, then perhaps we should conclude. Unless you’d like to quiz me on the information. I assure you, I shan’t fail to impress.” 

Stiffly, the man held a hand toward the door. Never one to turn down a generous offer, Ardyn smiled, tucked his head and left the horrible room to enter an equally horrible hallway. The floors were so polished that he could check his hair in them. Something dark inside his body picked at the edges of his seams. It whispered that he was close, he should just take. Those shining floors, the high golden ceilings, just take. Take the sun from the very sky. It ripped at the stitches, and for a moment in the quiet nearly empty hallway, he let it spill. Just a little. Then, just as quickly, drew it back into place and felt the boil of hatred and bile in his stomach and chest. Ichor leaked down his cheeks and was quickly wiped away with the back of a black sleeve. Ardyn checked his face and hair in the floor. He smiled, rubbed his jaw. Perfectly normal. 

Ardyn took the route to his chambers that passed the Crownsguard training hall. Prompto would be behind the closed doors this time of day. Though it would have been nothing just to lull time asleep for a while so that he might slip in and draw Prompto’s unsuspecting body tight against his own for an eternity, Ardyn made do with just touching the black wood of the door. His little bird worked so hard, it’d be a shame to extend the time to his certification by even a second. Ardyn loathed to wait any longer than he had to in order to see the smile that uniform would bring. Such silly things made Prompto Argentum happy. Such silly and inconsequential things. Ardyn couldn’t wait to show Prompto something worth being excited about. 

Ardyn spent the evening writing important, though exceptionally boring correspondences. He pulled the stitches again and felt the miasma build under the surface and pull away from his body. Though the thing was small, the pain was exceptional. The sound of flesh and sinew crackled in his ears like wet paper. When it had pulled away, Ardyn held the letters out, and the deamon took them in its dripping claws. Ardyn spent several minutes cleaning up the mess and rearranging the disaster the daemon made of his ribs. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Sometime in the few years that Noct had been close with Promtop Argentum Ignis found himself getting close with him as well. Royal titles came with caveats and caution, particularly concerning company. Some wanted a brush with Noct’s fame, others still wanted attention and praise, there were those who thought to catch the prince’s eye would mean redemption. Prompto, in a way, was and was not that last kind of person. Indeed, the prince’s eyes represented what Prompto wanted, but the heavy title of prince was second to the heavy title of ‘Noct.’ Validation in its purest form, and the question of from whom it came was as irrelevant as the weather the day they met. 

Ignis, ever cautious and analytical, searched and searched for Prompto’s motives for months. He’d been asked to chaperone their first night together. By the end of the first night, Ignis was nudging Noct and encouraging him to offer Prompto the bed, though when the blond boy got his first look at Noct’s bedroom, he’d politely declined. Prompto played the role of the perfect guest, offered to help clean up, even attempted to help with dinner, though Prompto appeared helpless at both cleaning and cooking. Surely a person like him could be nothing but a bad influence. Prompto was loud, hapless, clumsy, messy, and sensitive. But he tried. And he always got better. 

Slowly that boy wormed his way into Ignis’ life, and into other intimate, almost shameful places in Ignis’ body and mind. 

That little worm found his way to Ignis’ home that evening, sitting cross-legged on the recently cleaned white couch, thighs encasing a pint of Ignis’ favorite ice cream. A pile of dishes towered in the sink, remnants from the pasta making lesson. As soon as Ignis stood to attend them, Prompto yanked the spoon out of his mouth and pointed it Ignis’ way. “Hey! Nope! Told you I would take care of that.” 

“That’s all well and fine, but you so seldom make good on those kinds of promises.” 

The spoon made its way back into Prompto’s mouth, and he blinked owlishly up at Ignis, shaking his head ‘no’ in intentionally overdramatic motions. The spoon popped back out. “Welp, not this time!” With his spoon-free hand, he patted the seat to his left and scrunched up against the armrest as though he thought he was taking up too much space. A sad habit Ignis noticed he’d never shaken. The space looked inviting, though. More so than the mountain of responsibility. 

Ignis sank into his couch with a grateful sigh reached to massage the sole of his foot. A sudden flurry of sound met him as Prompto slammed the pint of ice cream down a little too hard on the marble top table, followed by the clatter of a spoon. Before Ignis had the time to chastise him for being careless, Prompto was on his knees in front of Ignis, staring at his foot with clear determination. Whatever Ignis wanted to say dried up in his mouth at the position, the perfect view of unstyled blond hair, leaning first one way and then the other before two hands took hold of Ignis’ foot and dragged it down toward Prompto’s lap. 

His first instinct was to ask what the boy thought he was doing, but it was fairly obvious. Ignis hissed with the press of both of Prompto’s thumbs just under the ball of his foot. Though hard and a little painful, Ignis could already feel the tension easing. In his feet at least. 

“It’s gotta be hard,” Prompto said after a moment. His motions stopped just long enough for him to look up and meet Ignis’ eyes. He looked more pensive than usual, the angle doing nothing but making those blue, blue eyes wider and more clearly bothered. “You do a lot. You won’t sit down unless someone makes you or until you’ve had enough.” His thumbs moved down a little, leaving a pleasant dull ache that soothed all the previous soreness as it faded. 

“I could say the same to you,” Ignis said, but when it came out, his words sounded cracking and forced. He swallowed several times to lubricate his throat and tried again. “Spending all day training, and then coming here. Hand making pasta is a labor of love.”

Prompto nodded in agreement and moved on to the heel. “I got that. Lotsa work! It was fun though. Probably not going to do it every night. But I don’t have to worry about as much as you do, you know? You gotta balance all the really important stuff.” 

“Meaning?” 

“I dunno. But you got all that paperwork all the time, and just taking care of Noct is pretty much a full-time job. You’d be over at his place if he didn’t have a thing to go to.” Prompto pushed Ignis’ foot gently off his lap and grabbed the other one. “It’s like all you do is work. Do you just like it that way?” 

Honestly, Ignis couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer. Claiming that Noctis had become his hobby sounded utterly absurd, but he couldn’t deny the truthfulness. “I have never liked being idle.” That satisfied Prompto, who dropped that topic in favor of what he no doubt honestly wanted to discuss. 

“How do you feel about the wedding?” 

He’d thought about it, of course, but putting words to feelings made reality all the more real. How could he tell someone like Prompto, who admired and leaned upon him, that he felt utterly lost? Upended? The news felt like being tossed upon a strange sea, even though he’d been expecting it or at least something like it. As an advisor, though, ultimately what was best for Lucis came first. 

“I believe this is a glorious opportunity to ease significant tensions and put an end to a great deal of heartache.” Short. True. Perhaps lying by omission. Prompto’s hands slowed, and Ignis could see him swallowing several times. 

“What an advisor thing to say. But, you’re right. It’s good. This is a good thing, and the best thing that we can do is to support him as much as we can. That’s what we’re here for.” Prompto pulled himself back up onto the couch and worked out the stiffness in his thumbs. “Feel-uh… feel any better?” Prompto nodded towards Ignis’ feet.

“Oh, yes, quite. Thank you, Prompto.” They lapsed into a silence that Ignis wished Prompto would make an effort to fill. The boy clearly wanted to talk, but his mouth stayed shut. Up to Ignis, then. “How do you feel about it?”

A deep sigh. One of Prompto’s hands slid into his hair while the other spun the spoon around on the table. With a jolt of panic, Ignis realized that the ice cream would probably melt, but that eased as he watched Prompto fuss. He supposed that would be alright. Disturbing Prompto’s thoughts was simply out of the question. 

“I feel bad, I think. Like, doesn’t it feel like this is the end of everything? I’m becoming like some kind of villain about it, to be honest. Just because I want to keep my friend I’d entertain the idea of making a real big scene at a wedding that’s supposed to save the world. Sometimes I don’t even care that it’s supposed to save the world, I just want him to say no. That’s awful, right? Like so incredibly selfish.” Prompto laughed without mirth and bowed his chin to his chest. “But this is such a good thing, Iggy. It’s such a good thing, and we should support him. I should…” Prompto’s voice choked, and he went silent. That silence went on, broken only when Prompto sniffed every now and then. If Ignis was half the man that he wished he was, he would have slung an arm around Prompto, drew him closer, at least he would have spoken! But he just sat. Feeling awkward and guilty. It was only natural that Prompto would mourn the loss of his first real friend. His best friend. 

“I’m so… I’m so fucking scared I’ll never see him again.” Prompto sucked in a hard breath in place of a sob and bit the back of his hand. His shoulders quivered. “I did all of this for him. I-I learned to fight. I…” Another breath. He laughed in that kind of wet way where he just wanted to make a noise. To let Ignis know that he was trying to pull himself together. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, said “fuck,” but he didn’t lift his head for a long time. “Sorry, Iggy.” 

'It’s alright. You deserve to break down. You’ve worked so hard, and you’ve come so far. Do not apologize for showing weakness. I like this part of you. It will be okay, everything will be okay. You’ll see him again. He’ll always be your friend. You’ll never lose any of us.' The core of it all. 'We’ll never leave you behind.' 

What Ignis said instead was, “chin up, Prompto,” and the words were exactly the wrong ones. Ignis could see Prompto taking them to heart, his shoulders slumping lower. Curling in on himself. Ignis wished he’d keep crying if just to put an end to the eerie quiet that followed. 

“It’s not about me, I know. I just…Haaaaaa.” He rolled forward, sticking his head between his knees for several seconds before rolling back into a full sitting position. “Whooo. Okay.” Rather suddenly, he hopped up on his feet and marched over to Ignis’ pristine window. He breathed on it, and Ignis observed him drawing a smiley face on the immaculate surface. Under normal circumstances, Ignis would have politely but firmly asked the heathen that desecrated his clean windows to leave. But Prompto was different. Rather than say anything, Ignis just returned the ice cream to the freezer and started on the dishes. 

Ignis was not surprised when Prompto yelled from the living room. “Hey! I told you I’d do those!” They stood side by side and cleaned the kitchen together. For the life of him, Ignis wished and wished that he could say the right thing. As always, though, Prompto healed his own aching heart until his usual small smile reappeared and he started talking about how much he wanted to be a professional YouTuber. 

“I’d call it GamersGains.” He waved his hands, splashing little flecks of water across the counter and Ignis’ chest. “Fitness and video games. And photography too, sometimes. I just don’t really know how to talk about that.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The parents weren’t home. That’s fine, they never were. Gave Prompto the whole house to himself. It had been nice of Iggy to entertain him last night, but he figured he should let the advisor rest, so put off on texting him or asking him if he wanted to do anything. Noct wasn’t answering his phone despite the deluge of crying emojis that Prompto sent him. After an hour or so of endless bothering, he finally just settled on sending him ‘sry to bug u. b here when you get bk. k?’ 

Even Gladio had plans! But, at least he was nice enough to text Prompto back to turn down his workout offer. Important families of Insomnia gala or something. Bigwigs and pretty women all in one big room together doing important Insomnia stuff. Like… drinking wine and chortling. 

Prompto flopped over on his bed and tried to take a very casual selfie. It turned into a twenty-minute experiment with poses and lighting and changing backgrounds. He eventually swapped his phone for his actual camera, but it was hard to get that right when he had it backward. He sat up and scanned through all of his photos for a millionth time, deleted several of them. The collection got smaller and smaller every time. Soon there’d be none! 

Not true! 

At the rate Prompto took photos he was lucky he hadn’t filled up the memory card yet. Good ass memory card, though. Room for many pictures. A thought occurred. Outside his window Insomnia was changing colors as the afternoon rolled right into evening. Prompto looked from the window to his camera and back again. Fuck it. 

He'd make his own fun. Didn’t need any royal nonsense to mess it up. 

And yet he still found himself in front of the Citadel. Like a fucking puppy. He could have kicked himself, but stopped when he realized how the imposing glass and steel structure looked against the rippling amber of the shield. Like it was being drawn on and off of graph paper. Only one big puffy cloud floated along the horizon, and that baby was nice and out of the way of the Citadel. Not that the cloud wasn’t utterly adorable (and it kinda looked like a dog, but like with a snake body). 

Most people had already gotten off work, and the patrol around the outside wasn’t so heavy that Prompto felt like so much of a spazz when he knelt down on the sidewalk and stared straight up. Lying flat on the ground would have been a much better option, but he’d either run the risk of being hit by a car or seeing up a woman’s skirt. Both were equally fatal. 

The angle wasn’t good, but he still managed three passable shots. Good enough to edit anyway. He’d have to get on that after laundry. Which he really didn’t want to do, but really needed to do because the situation was getting ridiculous. His room was more hamper than room. Like, it was getting to a certain level. Intervention level. Ignis is fucking scared, level. Prompto could see it deep in his mind’s eye or whatever. Gladio standing in his room, windows thrown open so that his hair could blow back dramatically as he held the fainted form of Ignis in one jacked arm. “I thought you knew how to handle these kinds of situations.” And sure! Prompto could handle them, but in reasonable doses, and not the kind of doses that came with ‘recently teenager’s mother is sick of mystery stains on the sheets.’ His parents may not have been around to show him how to do laundry, but thank the Six Ignis was! 

When Prompto looked up again he saw a halo of red hair surrounding a scruffy face wearing a look that looked half concerned and half confused. Maybe half something else, too. That face was attached to a body in royal black. And the face and body both belonged to Ardyn Izunia.

“Good evening, Mr. Argentum. Are you quite alright?” 

“Huh? Yeah, wassup?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. You have just been staring down at nothing for the better part of a minute and not moving. Another few seconds and I would have seen it necessary to alert a medic, I believe.” Was he joking? He was smiling a little bit, but Ardyn kinda always did that. 

“Nope, just thinking about laundry,” Prompto confessed. Not the most entertaining thoughts in the world, but hey, no one ever accused him of being fascinating.

“Ah, of course. Laundry. Bane of every photographer’s existence, I suppose?” 

“Bane of everyone’s existence. We can’t all be as fastidious as Ignis, so people like me and most other plebs just wind up with a mountain of the stuff and no will to do it.”  
“You’d consider me a plebian?”

Prompto cocked his head and considered the advisor’s words. He did not like doing laundry… ergo pleb. The advisor to the king hated laundry. Everyone hated laundry. Everyone. But something about the advisor to. The. King not liking it made Prompto just want to break down into laughter. 

“No way. You’re pretty much the farthest thing from pleb I can imagine! I guess even non-plebs hate that stuff.” 

“Very much so. Now, I’m sure you’ve noticed that the evening is drawing in. I should think I wouldn’t mind company for dinner.” Ardyn stared directly at Prompto’s chest for an uncomfortable period of time before Prompto realized he was looking at the camera. “I am curious, Mr. Argentum, about the contents of your little camera. Join me, won’t you?” 

Prompto didn’t get the opportunity to respond before Ardyn took his arm and jogged him toward the Citadel. Well, not a jog for Ardyn, because the man almost certainly had to be half-behemoth and long legs went long distances. He must have had legs… Prompto almost checked. All that cloth… no one would know any better if he didn’t. Probably. 

“Good evening, Angela,” Ardyn said to the woman at the desk, who put her hand over the talking part of a phone that had a cord coming out of its butt to mouth something back at him with a clean little smile. He did that a lot as they went, it was like he knew everyone’s names. Not just, like, the important people. Like literally everyone. Probably even people that he never met.

A few people asked about Prompto like they recognized him, which made him feel pretty bad considering he couldn’t even begin to place their faces or where he may have met them. Since joining the Crownsguard he’d gotten around the Citadel a lot, met a lot of people. Why couldn’t he be the kind of person that could just remember names and faces like it was nothing? Tellers had absolutely mad skills with that sort of thing. 

A door shut behind him, and he looked up to see Ardyn on his cellphone. Prompto wandered over to a bank of windows. They must have only been five or so floors up, situated in the kind of room that probably had a name like the ‘Winchester Room’ or ‘The Black Room’ if they weren’t all black. Or like ‘Evening Den.’ There were several over-stuffed black leather armchairs and a long less comfortable looking black couch with all kinds of gold nonsense on the wooden parts. The table in front of all of them was white marble, and at each far side by the chairs were heavy looking ashtrays that were utterly spotless. The words ‘intimate’ and ‘cozy’ did not come to mind, so out of the ballpark that they had fallen into the ocean forty-two miles away. Hard to feel ‘cozy’ when the ceiling was a million feet tall and reflective and there were floor to ceiling windows. Great view though… 

“Forgive me, I thought that perhaps it would be inappropriate to bring you to my private chambers. I’ve never much been one for these garish meeting rooms, but it is inoffensive enough.” 

“I wouldn’t have been offended to see your bedroom.” Prompto realized how it sounded as he said it and held up both hands to stop that train of thought right on the tracks before it came to a stop in Stupidtown. “Not that I’m itching to see it, or anything! Just… haha. Yeah. This is great. Nice room. Very tall.”

That look on Ardyn’s face made Prompto squirm where he stood. There was something strange about it, but maybe Ardyn was just laughing at him without making it obvious. “Yes, quite tall. Less close than I usually like. I requested dinner be brought here, though.” Ardyn sat in one of the armchairs and he ate up all the space in it. Prompto thought that they looked like they’d eat a normal human, but for Ardyn they were about perfect. “Please, sit down, Mr. Argentum. Would you mind terribly if I took a look at your camera? As I said earlier, I am curious about what someone like you believes is worthy of commemoration.”

Words like ‘worthy’ and ‘commemoration’ gave Prompto pause, but he handed the camera over anyway. “You just… yeah, that. And you can… right. Okay, just, it’s a touchscreen.” Prompto never thought he’d be a helicopter parent, but no one had ever shown so much interest in his camera before either. He felt oddly protective and irritable about it, but he agreed. “No, not that one. Just keep going. It’s not good.” He hovered over Ardyn’s shoulder, biting a thumbnail. “Not that one either.” 

“Mr. Argentum.” Prompto winced. When someone said your name as a sentence it usually meant you were annoying. “I assure you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Your talent is quite extraordinary.” Ardyn was the kinda guy that pronounced extraordinary like two separate words. And that just made it sound so much more foreign. Excuse you? Extra ordinary? Like better than ordinary and several steps above mediocre? Lightyears away from bad? Wires in Prompto’s brain had to be on fire or something because all of those words felt like what short-circuiting must be like. 

Prompto said “thank you” because exactly what he wanted to say was self-depreciating and if Noct had been there he would have slapped Prompto on the back of the head for saying it. 

“You have many of your friends. They say that artists represent what they hate and what they love. You must love your friends very deeply.” He turned the camera to the left a little and his little smile actually turned kind of warm. “And Insomnia.” Ardyn scrolled around a little longer before he came back to the first photo and handed the camera back. “Such a talent needs to be encouraged. Have you considered photojournalism perhaps? Or maybe employ yourself as a royal photographer? You certainly take enough pictures of the prince.” 

“Uh… No. None of that. I wanna be in the Crownsguard.” 

Ardyn laughed. Prompto couldn’t tell exactly how offended he should feel, so he went with ‘not at all’ and sat down on the long black couch, fiddling with the camera, but not turning it back on. 

“A fan of chocobos, are we?” 

“Oh… Yeah. How did you know?” Prompto rarely got out to the royal stables, so images of chocobos were a bit of a rarity in his collection. That, Prompto knew, was an absolute travesty that had to be corrected. Somehow. 

Ardyn leaned over and clasped his hands together on his knees. Those eyes and half-smile were leveled full-power at Prompto. The man was… handsome, in a kind of washed-up alcoholic, lost all of his money in a street fight kinda way. “Call it wizardry, Mr. Argentum. The Izunia line has been well known for generations as psychics.” 

“What, no way!” He’d heard about that kinda thing on TV or in Stajan Highking novels. Mostly about them being frauds and murderers or something. Like that one time that this woman pretended that an interviewer had died as a child only to be shocked that she’d actually survived! Prompto had told Gladio that psychics had to exist once if just to justify the existence of that whole ‘chosen king’ thing. Gladio had gotten into a whole thing about doubting the validity of destiny and something, something, free will means nothing, something. That got a little deep and confusing and a little chest clenching, so Prompto tried to talk about that cartoon about adopting moogles that were actually people from an immortal guy who wore dresses.

“No way, indeed. Alas, t’was your darling little phone case that gave it away.”

Oh. Right. 

The door opened and a cute girl wearing a maid’s uniform shouldered past the frame, balancing a tray on one flat palm that looked about one second away from disaster. The tray was gold, naturally, and when she pulled the lid off, steam rolled out like a cloud. It cleared to reveal two plates of some kind of grilled fish over rice and neatly stacked spears of asparagus.

“Thank you, Nadine,” Ardyn said, standing to take one of her hands in both of his. She blushed pretty enough that it looked like she practiced in her free time.

“It is no trouble, Advisor Izunia.” She bowed her head to him. “Mr. Argentum.” Then she bowed her head to Prompto and left the room, shutting the door behind her. How!? Was it just because he knew Noct? … Actually, Prompto was like eighty percent sure that was exactly it.

Ardyn pulled the dishes off the tray and sat them at the edges of the marble table, then held open one wide palm. “Mustn’t let it get cold.” 

Prompto agreed. It smelled great, but looking at it felt a bit like cheating on Iggy’s food. It would be fine as long as he didn’t prefer it, right? Free food! Iggy could not blame him for not turning down free food. He bit into the fish and couldn’t help closing his eyes and kicking his feet out. 

“Oh man. Iggy is going to kill me.” 

“Be a shame to have that happen without getting to see the world.” 

Prompto swallowed and took another bite, then swallowed again. “What do you mean?” 

“If life’s a book, those who don’t travel are only reading a page.” Ardyn cocked his head and bit into an asparagus spear almost delicately. “You know, your talents would only grow with exposure to the world outside.” Another delicate bite. 

“Yeah. I mean I get that. I’ve seen pictures of places. I like buildings and stuff. Insomnia is home, but it gets a little samey. Then again, I’ve lived here my whole life, and I bet that I’ve only seen like half of it. Maybe not even that much.”

Ardyn pointed a golden fork at him. “You’d be underwhelmed, I assure you.” He ate his fish with a mathematical efficiency. “Mr. Argentum, are you aware of the traditions of the Lucian royalty?” 

Prompto tried to speak around a mouthful of fish and choked, stopped, swallowed, and responded. “Not really? Just the stuff I learned about in my Crownsguard lessons. Crystal protectors! Steadfast and important blood, chosen of gods, giver of life and hope… That stuff. A lotta that stuff I had to know by heart. From some of the books and poems. I don’t remember a lot of it now.” 

The way that Ardyn watched him didn’t quite make Prompto’s skin crawl, but it did start fueling a really deep embarrassment. Ardyn’s eyes were a little lidded, head lulled onto the knuckles of one hand. Was it the choking? Probably the choking. Ignis warned him about talking and food. Rude, might die. But Ardyn started talking again eventually, for which Prompto was incredibly grateful so that he didn’t have to start babbling.

“As to be expected. Just what you need to know as a citizen and servant to the Crown.” The word servant came out a little quieter than the rest. “But there are a great deal of interesting tidbits about the royalty that has been lost to most. For example, were you aware that all the kings before handed down their weapons? Many of the royals of Lucis traveled to the tombs of their ancestors in order to strengthen their armigers.”

“That’s the magic inventory thing! Noct keeps my gun in there.” 

Ardyn nodded. “Yes, precisely. The armiger has more secrets than just being a storage space for the prince’s arms, however. It is also a vessel for memories. Memories of the experience and combat of all those that came before.” Prompto wasn’t sure he quite understood, but, MAN! Royal blood seemed to come with a ton of fun little perks. “Problem is, that experience is not innate. It would be a waste of the word were it so. One must struggle and learn a little.” Ardyn drank from the little gold cup. When Prompto mirrored the action he realized that maybe little was not the right word. It was pretty normal sized, just kinda looked like a doll cup in Ardyn’s hand. 

“You’re smiling, Mr. Argentum.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I’m listening, just thinking about something. You can just call me Prompto, you know. You call me mister like I’m older than you or something.” 

“Very well, Prompto. Then I must insist that you simply call me Ardyn.”

Prompto nodded in agreement. Everything clicked a few seconds late. Humming, Prompto finished off his fish and looked back out the big windows. “So, you think maybe Noct should do this whole traveling thing?” 

“Wouldn’t you agree that it would be a good idea?” Ardyn wiped his fingers on a black handkerchief monogrammed with something. Probably his initials. Or his dad’s initials. “I had not wanted to bring it up so brazenly, but surely the news of the wedding has had some impact?” 

Trying to speak would be difficult, Prompto realized, with how tensed up and cold his voice suddenly felt. Deep breaths helped to steady the rapid heartbeat feeling that rattled through his whole body. Did they really have to acknowledge that? Couldn’t it just die on the table until it came to pass? “Y-yeah.”

“Then perhaps it would be a good idea to see the world together. The tradition that I mentioned was not a lonely one, Prompto, and nor should it ever be. As one of Noctis’ retainers, and a well-trained one at that, you would certainly be a candidate to accompany him. The experience would take you all over Lucis.” 

And Ardyn took another drink like he hadn’t just given Prompto the best idea he’d ever heard. Maybe the wedding would happen, but that didn’t mean that Prompto could just mope for a whole year! And he wasn’t about to let Noct do it either. “A road trip!”  
Ardyn winked. “Precisely. More time with your dear little prince, and with the added benefit of Prince Noctis gaining power and life-experience. It always looks good for the royal family to actually step foot out into their country.”  
“Isn’t it dangerous?” 

“Most assuredly. But, that’s why Prince Noctis will want to take his retainers. It’s a wide, strange, beautiful world out there, Prompto Argentum. Would it not be sublime to experience it with those you feel the closest to?” Not just the words but the tone too encouraged the excitement building in Prompto’s belly. Like Ardyn knew what it meant. Knew how much this could help. “Just a suggestion.” 

“It’s a great one! Thank you, Ardyn!” Prompto jumped to his feet and sprinted to the door. He paused, looked back, unsure, eyes hovering on the dishes. Was he supposed to wash them…? Or give a thirty-day notice to Ardyn saying that he was planning to go? Without looking at him fully, Ardyn just waved a hand in farewell. 

“You are quite welcome, Prompto. Do be careful, my dear. It’s getting awfully dark.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Did the clock really say 8:00 already? Noct sighed heavily and flopped over on his back. His little bed creaked under the motion. He checked his phone again, squinting at the sudden light. Half a billion messages from Prompto and counting, a call from Ignis. Scrolling through the thousands of crying emojis caused a headache to build up behind Noct’s left eye. Why was Prompto this way? Couldn’t he take a fucking hint? The last message sent an immediate stab of guilt through Noct’s chest. ‘sry to bug u. b here when you get bk. k?’ Noct groaned and shoved the phone under his pillow. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but it had been a long day. People talking about and around him grated on his nerves endlessly. He’d yelled at a reporter! And all she did was ask him if he’d like a bottle of water! How the fuck did the news about the wedding get out so soon? The tabloids alone were utterly ridiculous, the news coverage, the endless emails requesting interviews… Noct just needed to tune it out. He knew his friends wanted to talk about it. But, just no. Fuck it. Fuck that. Fuck politics.

He’d read Luna’s last letter several times, had been eagerly awaiting a new one for over a week. Nothing. He had the distinct impression that she was trying to say something that she couldn’t, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Everything about life bothered him. Anything that could have possibly gone wrong just… went wrong! Luna, marriage, his dad getting sick, all of it. Most of all, though, he really missed Luna. The Imperial annex had taken its toll on their friendship, and Noct wanted so much to see her again. They could just say whatever they wanted, no written words to get in the way. She soothed his soul, even just her letters and the limited interactions they were afforded by phone. Not that they could talk much by phone, given the Imperial nanny situation Luna found herself in.

He tried particularly hard not to think about Prompto. Thinking about him made a lump appear in his throat that he couldn’t swallow around no matter how hard he tried. Prompto Argentum was the absolute last thing Noct wanted to think about. Dwelling on how much he missed Luna wasn’t helping much, but at least it wasn’t Prompto. Who Noct missed even when they were together.

Which was why the prince could have killed his best friend when he received the faint buzzing notification under his pillow, followed about four seconds later by an insistent pounding on the door to his apartment. Noct shoved the pillow over his head and prayed to the astrals that whoever it was (like there was even a question) would just give up and go home. But then that someone started singing the Mooglemon theme song at an embarrassing volume. In the vast world of Eos, certain laws of nature existed. The sun rose and set, the ocean came in and went out, down was always the same direction, and Prompto Argentum never fucking gave up.

By 8:35 Noct, Iggy, and Gladio were situated on Noct’s couch, and Prompto was bouncing on his toes in excitement. “Okay! Now that everyone is here…” More bouncing. Prompto met Noct’s eyes, and Noct figured his expression must have said something because that little excited spark dulled somewhat. “Ahem… Now that we’re all here! I have an idea. Since, as you all know, our very own Prince Noctis will be tying the knot soon.” Promto said that like it didn’t hurt. He kept on smiling. Bitter feelings bubbled up in Noct’s stomach at that. Soon Noct would be a husband. Like, wedlock binding him to another human being that is not Prompto… Was that what Noct really wanted?

“And, that means that soon our lives of bachelordom and sowing our wild oats will come to an end.”

Gladio snorted. “Squirt, I’d be horrified to see what kinda oats you’re sowing.”

“Shoosh. Now, I have a proposition for you all!”

Iggy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does this proposition include getting to the point?” He crossed one leg over the other all primly and rested his gloved hands on one knee. He always looked like he was posing for a portrait or something.  
“Yup! The point is…” And then Prompto bit his lip, bounced on his toes, and shook his fists. His attempt to build anticipation fell apart mere seconds later. “Road trip!”

Prompto no doubt received a trio of confused and blank looks because he tried again. “Road. Trip!”

“Yeah, we heard you the first time, blondie. A road trip?”

“Yeah! So, I talked to Ardyn, and there’s this… uh, tradition, I guess? Something, something obligation to grow stronger and protect the crystal. But! It’s all outside of Insomnia. So, like- “

“Wait, you talked to Ardyn?” Noct found himself saying for some reason. “Like alone? Were you in the palace? Why were you at the palace and with Ardyn?”

“You were sulking, Iggy was busy, and Gladio was flirting at a fancy party or something all afternoon. Anyway, so we’d just-“

“So, you went to Ardyn?”

“Mmhmm. Yeah, we talked a little.” Prompto rolled up on his toes again, but he was looking to the left a little guiltily. “He told me about this thing where you go around the world and get stronger. I’m not sure about the logistics, but it sounded more like an excuse to get out and do something… Real talk, guys.” Prompto had real talk face on, and Noct noticed Iggy lean down a little on his legs, almost squinting at Prompto through his glasses.

“I don’t know about all of you, but this whole wedding thing is kinda freaking me out. Like, it’s going to be so different, y’know?” Prompto hooked both of his thumbs behind his belt buckle and heaved a very heavy sigh. “We talk about adventure and shit all the time, but when have we ever actually DONE done something? Princes take their retainers, and they just…go? I guess? Plus, great publicity. We can save some cats from trees, kill some daemons, eat a behemoth!”

Gladio seemed particularly interested at that, brows disappearing into his hair and leaning forward. “I’m game.”

Iggy shook his head. “We cannot simply run off into the world and ignore our other duties. What about your training, Prompto?”

Seeming to expect this, Prompto pointed at Iggy, a wide smile across his face. “My final practical is next week. And I’m going to pass.” Would Prompto be comfortable wearing black all the time, Noct wondered, considering Prompto’s deep red Henley (sleeves ripped out, naturally) and marigold skinny jeans. Prompto wore leopard print. Unironically. “So, I’ll be Crownsguard, and we’ll have Gladio, and you too, Iggy. Even Noct knows how to fight. Noct. Can. Teleport.” Prompto threw his hands in the air, wiggling his fingers. “Your duty is to babysit him, right? And Gladio can protect him from stuff.” Hands met hips.

Suddenly everyone was looking at Noct. It really came down to him, he guessed. He watched Prompto, who had started biting his lip. Noct decided that action would have to be outlawed. Forever. No fair conclusions could possibly be drawn when someone looked that nervous and edible at the same time.

“I think it’s a good idea.”

Prompto punched the air and did the sort of dance that people did when they were trying to make fun of dancing but with all the earnestness of not actually being able to dance. “Sweet! So, we can make arrangements! We can use all that useless camping gear Gladio’s been collecting!”

“Look, just because you don’t go camping doesn’t mean it’s never been used. My tent is well loved.” The edge of actual defensiveness in Gladio’s voice made Noct cough-laugh into his fist. “You guys don’t even know how to camp, do ya? Light a fire?”

Noct shrugged. “I’d just throw a fireball at it and call it good.” Gladio met Noct’s eyes, and that was the face of pure contempt. Noct full on laughed at that. “Hey now. I know the theory. You pile up some stones, put some chairs around them… and throw paper into it? Or like logs? Right?”

Both Gadio and Iggy had that nose pinching thing going on, which was a good enough result to Noct. He looked at Prompto and actually found himself returning his smile. “Okay, so we do this. I gotta do some research on the whole thing first… and there’s asking dad about it.”

“Certainly his majesty will be able to talk you out of this whole idea,” Iggy said, standing. “Now, if you are all quite finished, I will start dinner.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Not only did Regis not even attempt to talk Noct out of the idea but agreed wholeheartedly. To say Noct was surprised would have been a lie. Somehow he knew his father would be interested in the idea. Though the king’s time was rare enough that they seldom even had time to have dinner together, Noct remembered his father’s stories about the world outside, stories that he shared in small, colorful anecdotes. The bloody bits about the war had been saved for when Noct grew older, but the world was much different than it was thirty years ago. The Nif fortresses lay untended and dusted over by the sand storms. But Regis had been firm that Insomnia was very different from the rest of Lucis. ‘It may as well be a separate country altogether,’ he’d said.

Outside the shield… Noct looked out the southmost window of his apartment and watched the shimmer of magic pass overhead. That magic that ate his father’s life… He sucked in a breath. That would be his duty one day. Maybe the Empire wasn’t in the Crown City, but it was certainly everywhere else. Even Lucis could be crying out in pain. Could they hear that from inside the wall? In the back of it all, Noctis realized that one last adventure with his best friends paled in comparison to what they could do for the ailing people of Lucis.

As always, though, there was one, horrible set back.

“We are NOT taking him with us,” Noct hissed, trying to even his voice out to retain royal respect but keeping the acid clinging to his words.

“Noctis, while I can appreciate that you and your retinue are a talented group, you lack in real-world knowledge. Ardyn is an excellent guide and has a great deal of experience with the country.” Regis clapped Noct on the shoulder and smiled, highlighting the deep lines around his eyes and mouth. “While I believe that you would do well to see the world outside, I am still a father worried about his son. There is a great deal more for you to understand about your homeland, but these are dangerous times, even for a group so gifted as yours.”

“I know, I’ve been researching.” The slow, shocked look on his father’s face made Noct bite back a measure of annoyance. “I’m really into this, okay? We’ve got it all planned out. There are two tombs nearby, we’ll give that a go, see how things turn out.”

Regis hummed in understanding and nodded. “A fair place to start, but you still don’t know anything about the world outside. It’s very different than in the Crown City, Noctis.” Regis gave his son a patient look, but one that was steady in his decision. “There is only so much books can tell you, Noctis. For some things, you simply need experience.”

“Doesn’t he have, I don’t know, a job or something?”

“Not one so immediately pressing that I couldn’t stand to lose him for a few days. There are ways for us to communicate, and there have been no flare-ups after the announcement of the wedding.” Noct winced, but if he noticed, Regis didn’t show it. “Just humor, me Noctis. A few days, that’s all.” He said it in a way that meant there would be no more talking about it. Noct bowed to his father and left the throne room, feeling for all the world like a peasant denied by the crown.

When he got back to his apartment, Prompto was still there, asleep where Noct left him on the couch. The glaring ‘you are dead’ screen had probably been up since Noct left. Pizza boxes and movie cases littered the floor, but the place of honor was on the coffee table. A carefully folded set of black ceremonial gear. Prompto had been carrying it with him everywhere. Though he hadn’t been required to attend, Noct went to the ceremony. Prompto almost cried, and Noct’s heart swelled with equal parts affection and pride.

Prompto did cry when he got his fatigues. He'd been particularly excited about receiving the more personalized fatigues. A patch on his vest, right under the collar said ‘It’s a beautiful day now watch some bastard fuck it up,’ which Noct just thought was funny. When he saw the patch, though, Prompto teared up all over again. He explained later that it had been a personal touch from Cor. Some joke or something? Noct tried to get over the fact that Prompto had jokes with other people. Not important at the moment.

“Hey, Prom…” Noct kicked Prompto’s foot. “Hey. Get up. I talked to dad.”

“Hn?” Blue eyes opened blearily and Noct reminded himself to breathe. “Yeah. Did he go for it?”

“Yeah. Thing is that he thinks we’ll get lost or something, so he’s sending Ardyn with us for the first couple of days.”

Prompto swore under his breath and restarted his game. It took a moment to realize that Prompto was not swearing because of the news. “Hey, did you hear me? I said Ardyn has to come for a few days.”

“Yeah. That sounds fine, dude.” Prompto threw his head back, reflexes not sharp enough after his nap to play games that difficult without dying immediately. “Probably be a good idea. He knows a lot of stuff.”

Noct groaned and tossed himself onto the couch. He watched Prompto struggle for a while before he got bored of that and started messing around on his phone. Honestly, a great many other activities sounded better than watching Prompto suck at video games. Noct smiled mischievously, and reached over, trailing a hand up the side of Prompto’s thigh. His cargos were a rough and unpleasant material, but the sound of the controller stopped. Noct didn’t look up from his phone. Even through the clothes, Noct could feel the muscles tensing, so he curled his fingers into claws and dug the tips into Prompto’s leg. He hissed and sat the controller aside.

“Dude, you are…” Noct looked up in time to see Prompto swallow, focused on the motion of his Adam’s apple bobbing against the tight, pretty skin of his neck. “Okay? Up for this?” Why wouldn’t he be? Noct sat the phone down and flipped onto his knees, shuffling the few inches to Prompto’s side.

Up on his knees he could look down at Prompto. Those eyes and that little nose turned up, pupils already shot because Noct’s best friend was so, so fucking responsive. The boy turned on like a damn light. A peachy blush spread across his cheekbones and down the sides of his neck. Prompto blushed all blotchy, and it was the most adorable thing Noct could possibly imagine. All the way down to those… very bitable collar bones. Noct braced his hands on Prompto’s shoulders and leaned down to nip his neck. Warmth spread up his sides and Prompto dragged his hands under Noct’s shirt, pulling the fabric up as he went, twisting in his seat to face Noct as straight on as he could.

Noct had to hold back a strange reflex to growl. Something about Prompto looking up at him had Noct wanting to just burrow into Prompto’s flesh. Just absolutely tear him apart. Noct reached down to pull up Prompto’s graphic t-shirt (of a cartoon chocobo eating out of a dog bowl) up over his head, exposing that prominent collarbone. Prompto kept letting out these soft little sounds that had Noct’s cock plumping and chaffing against his jeans. Just sink his teeth into those shoulders, paint that spray of freckles white… Noct bit into Prompto’s neck to keep from groaning too loudly. But doing that made Prompto whine and Noct felt himself helplessly bucking against nothing.

Those shoulders, those strong arms, the planes of his thin, but defined chest. Noct leaned back to drink it all in, to take in the sight of those little red marks blooming like flowers on Promto’s neck and shoulders. Prompto had slotted his hands against Noct’s hip bones and held on with a grip, tight out of desperation or maybe helplessness. His long blond lashes gummed up with tears, and already his lips had fallen open to show the sight of that little pink tongue.

He looked so utterly debauched, and it took almost nothing. Noct grit his teeth, felt heat wipe through his chest as he pressed their bare torsos against each other. He bit Prompto’s ear when he felt those long fingers start scratching at his back. “I fucking love you, Prom.”


	3. The Bones of God Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really dialing up the indulgence in this one. 
> 
> My notes for chapter 3 were also very, very ambitious. I managed to get through half of them here, so opted to cut chapter 3 into two parts. Not to worry though! Plenty of development and uncomfortableness in both of them.
> 
> Guys. I also really love sentence fragments. Apologies ahead of time.

Life in the front seat of the Regalia was sweet. Outside the air was wibbly with the heat, and everything looked like the surface of a cake left in the oven twenty minutes too long. Little scraggly bushes and low, interesting rocks dotted a landscape only ever really broken up by long lines of machinery and broken-down fences. Sure, Prompto had seen beyond the wall in a kind of tourist peering through a door kind of way. He knew about the sand and all, but it was like an ocean of nothing dotted with old stuff and the kinds of plants and animals whose applications had been denied for the nicer biomes. The air felt like drowning and the sun ate into his energy reserves like some kinda metaphysical vampire. 

The negative space made for a lot of cool pictures, though. The rocks bit into the sky like monster fangs, and that blue went on for years. The sky never looked so blue from Insomnia. Maybe the shield worked to keep some good things out, too. Prompto leaned out the side of the car to snap a photo of an old car, wheels half buried in the sand. 

“Prompto,” Iggy started in that even, mom tone that sounded reasonable at first but really wasn’t, “please stop pouring yourself out of the car.” 

“How’d you even notice? You’ve got all four eyes on the road and haven’t even glanced over here!” Prompto did as he was told, though, and settled his camera in his lap. Stuff didn’t look good through the windows, so he just observed through his eyeball lenses. 

Ahead of them, Ardyn’s red Vixen Constellation carved out a path in the dusty little road for them to follow. Like the Regalia, it was convertible, but unlike the Regalia, Ardyn kept the top down, presumably because the advisor to the king of Lucis was entirely too proud for air conditioning. With all those layers, though? Yeah, Prompto would have been dead. 

Black was a really shitty color for the desert! And being royal retinue meant just black. All the time, black. Because the royals of the world had to stand on ceremony even in the desert. Noct didn’t seem to like it either, but then Noct didn’t seem to like much of anything. They’d barely spoken for the past twenty-four hours. Prompto knew Noct was pissed, and he couldn’t even blame him. To say things had gone badly would be an understatement. Thinking about the night before had the words bouncing in his head. Those words. The ones that were ‘I love you’ but couldn’t possibly actually be those words in intention. 

“If you fall out then Iggy will just leave you in the road,” Gladio provided, finally untangling himself from whatever he was reading. Prompto was pretty sure he hadn’t heard the man’s voice all morning.

“You wouldn’t,” Prompto said flatly, returning his attention to Iggy. 

And it took a really long time for Iggy to speak. “Let’s not test it, hm?”

Prompto didn’t want to ask if he was joking or not in case he didn’t like the answer, so just took pictures of the car’s passengers instead. When he flipped through his camera he caught the sour look Noct shot the lens, pretty lips turned into a scowl that both did and did not suit him. Gladio was scowling too, but it was the photogenic kind. Prompto sighed, hovered over the delete key, then thought better of it. What if it was the last picture Noct ever let him take? 

Ardyn raised a hand above the car and Iggy sighed. “Seems we’ve nearly arrived at our first destination.” 

“That’s Hammerhead, right?” Noct asked, leaning forward and propping his chin on the backrest by Iggy’s head. Those dark blue eyes flicked Prompto’s way and pinned him against the expensive leather. They tore away quickly, but Prompto could still feel the hurt, anger, and meaning behind that look. Suddenly his lap seemed interesting. 

“That’s correct. Your father insisted we pay the place a visit…” Distaste colored Iggy’s tone, so Prompto squinted into the distance. He guessed the giant shark looking thing was probably Hammerhead. All that shining metal in the sunlight… It looked really hot. Close up it was actually pretty neat, had a convenience store full of cool little techy bits and the kind of old-world diner that just HAD to have a jukebox. 

“It’s hellish, isn’t it?” Ardyn asked, once everyone was good and parked. It was funny that the advisor preferred to talk to him over, say, Iggy. Wasn’t like Prompto was smart or anything. But Ardyn still chose to talk to him, and that was interesting. Ardyn waved his hand in front of his face, and he was scowling. That was a new look for Ardyn. “All this damnable heat.” Prompto’s legs had been aching all day, and stretching them out wasn’t helping a great deal. A curious pain had settled itself in the lowest part of his spine, one that he attributed to sitting in a car all day, but had really appeared out of the fucking aether first thing that morning.

“It’s not really too bad.” Prompto stretched his arms up above his head for a few moments before snapping a photo of the diner. It didn’t turn out very well, so he just deleted it. “The breeze helps and the shade too.” He smiled at Ardyn who just stared back at him with the kind of look you’d give someone that just turned into a unicorn. Trying to map out the emotions behind that kind of thing left Prompto’s head reeling a little, so he just waved at Ardyn. “I’m gonna go check out the store.” 

Iggy had the same idea. He was examining the leftmost shelf, humming under his breath at the canned coffee. The store was small, but that just made it easier for the fan air to circulate. It was still hot and stale inside, but the outside was so much worse. There were scattered car parts and boxes of wires lined up on some shelves. Others had tempting displays of salty snacks in little plastic bags. Maybe if Prompto was quiet, Iggy wouldn’t notice him making away with some. “Perish that thought this moment.”

How the fuck…? 

Iggy turned and adjusted his glasses. He had a can of Ebony in his hand, but put it back after a moment’s thought. “I know what you’re thinking. First, no. You know better. Two, I am not sure we came properly prepared.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Seems the monetary system outside of the Crown City is decidedly separate.” Iggy pointed toward the exit and Prompto joined him just outside. Off in the distance Gladio and Noct were talking to a blonde someone wearing next to nothing. Prompto craned his neck to the point of near injury. “Easy, Prompto. If you break your neck now, you’ll never get to properly introduce yourself.” 

Iggy was right, and Prompto just HAD to introduce himself. Trying to muster some swagger and charm was all well and good, but that pretty much faltered the second he got close enough to really see the woman Noct was talking to. Blonde. Leggy. Adorable. She had one hand on her hip and was frowning in a way that looked more like a pout. Whatever words he had just dried up in his mouth and he slid in behind Gladio. 

“Well, it ain’t too serious, but I’d still wanna take a gander at her,” the woman was saying. She didn’t even notice Prompto. All according to plan! “You can talk to Pawpaw about the cost. He’s got nothin’ to do anyway.”

She suddenly noticed Prompto. Cover blown! Panic! She leaned over slightly and Prompto fought hard not to let his eyes travel too low. He succeeded. 

“Well, howdy there! You with the prince?” she asked like she just casually met royalty on a daily basis. Prompto opened his mouth to say something like ‘yes’ but all that came out was silence.

The woman cocked her head and came a little closer, propping her hands against the flare of her hips. “Y’alright?” 

“I’m Prompto!” Gladio turned slowly and blinked just as slowly at Prompto.

She laughed and nodded. “Alright then! Pleasure to meet ya’, Prompto.” She moved her gaze back to Noct and Gladio, and Prompto had never been so relieved for a girl to forget that he exists.

The garage proper was more like a hangar than a garage. Not even the Crown City had buildings that extensive and well equipped and Insomnia was probably the car capitol of the world or something. Prompto was pretty sure he’d read that in a book somewhere. All kinds of interesting looking mechanical gizmos lined the walls and sat on benches. The hoist held a red four door whose details Prompto couldn’t make out from the angle. Also, there was an old man yelling at a gas can.

“Dammit to Hell! Yer lucky I don’t throw you to the daemons you-“ 

He stopped when Noct cleared his throat, but his mood didn’t seem to improve. “Yeah? And whatchu want?” He crossed his arms over his chest and dragged his eyes across the party with the kind of distaste only the delightfully crotchety elderly could manage without coming off as complete assholes. 

“Uh, Cindy sent us to talk to you about the cost of the repairs,” Noct said. Never missed a beat. Even old, screaming car wizards couldn’t shake Noct. Suddenly Prompto felt a sort of pride bubbling up in his chest at being in Noct’s entourage. He consciously straightened his back. 

“You Reggie’s boy?” 

And just like that, all decorum was lost. Reggie!? King of the Crown City, Light of Lucis, Line of the Chosen King, Savior of the Great War. Reggie. Prompto giggle-snorted into his wrist, and when he looked up again three pairs of eyes were on him. Only one pair looked amused. And that pair belonged to the old man. 

“You the prince’s retainer? I’ll be damned, they’d accept about anybody these days.” 

“Hey!” 

“Ignore him. He’s been hopping off the walls since we got out of the city. But yeah, I’m Noctis.”

The man snorted again. “Ye know, when he told me what he wanted to name his son I honestly thought he was joking. Night Light seems like a pretty nasty joke to play on someone. Yet here y’are. We take gil out here. None o’ them crowns or nothin’. Y’all up there in the Crown City were too good for us common folks’ gil.” 

“What’ gil?” Prompto found himself asking, more charmed than off put by the man’s gruffness. 

“Money, ye idjit!” 

The insult stabbed into the part of Prompto’s stomach that made him want to laugh uncontrollably. Noct said something petulant, though Prompto missed it in the desperate attempt to keep his laughter at bay. Fuck! He loved this old man!  
“Well, is there something we can do to earn it?” Gladio finally asked. Big guy always asked the important questions.

“There’s a few things that need doin’.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

When Cid said ‘a few things’ what he had meant was ‘a lot of killing.’ And that was all well and good, Noct really wanted to hit something. Their training had been more than enough to prepare them for the little tasks they’d been set. The familiar tug and pull of the warp strikes gave Noct’s stomach that fuzzy kind of sick feeling. When he’d been little it actually made him puke a few times, but by the age of twenty it was just kinda there. Maybe even a little bit pleasant. 

The things they’d been set to kill were these nasty looking bug deals with wicked curled stingers on the ends. They were easy enough to dispatch, Gladio’s massive, heavy swings tearing into their hard bits so that the rest of them could make quick work of their soft bits. Ardyn had vanished off somewhere, which suited Noct fine. 

Not for the first time that day, Noct noticed a certain unsteadiness to Prompto’s movements. Small, like he’d cut his foot or something. Getting hurt would kinda serve him right, but it would be an enormous pain in the ass in the long run. The thought was shitty and satisfying in a way that had Noct twisting his sword unusually hard in the last scorpion’s guts. Fuck Prompto. 

They rested as the horror-terrors dried out in the desert air. Noct took a deep breath, but his lungs just felt full of grit and hot. Couldn’t even get a good breath in. It was the kind of heat that you got used to though. The sweating was gross. Sweating was always gross. 

Iggy was cleaning the blood off his knives and looked like he was going to say something when Ardyn materialized out of the haze of heat like some kind of ninja daemon, immediately positioning himself next to Prompto, who’d been quietly kicking sand into piles and refusing to look at Noct.

“Tsk, tsk, your highness. At this rate you’ll never be capable of handling deadlier foe. That was one of… how many… three groups that delightful man requested you manage?” He had a sword out, a really big over-compensating sword that dripped with familiar looking, probably mutated scorpion blood. “Luckily for you all, I’ve dispatched the other two.” 

“Oh, thank the SIX! Let’s goooo!” Prompto trudged up the slight embankment ahead of them. 

“Hold on, Blondie,” Gladio called, hefting his own over-compensation blade against the top of one shoulder. “No one asked you to do that, Ardyn.” Acid dripped from Gladio’s tone and Noct felt a smile growing. 

“Regardless, the task is complete, barely thanks to the prince and his band of retainers.” Ardyn mimicked Gladio’s posture in a way that made Noct just want to fly off the handle and punch him as hard as humanly possible, and maybe as hard as supernaturally possible. Instead, he just floated to Iggy’s side as the other man vanished his knives back to the armiger. 

“Does he piss you off as bad as he does me?” 

“Completely, but it is only for a few days.” Iggy clapped a hand on Noct’s shoulder and made his way to Gladio’s side. A few well-placed words and everyone was finally ready to go. The Vixen didn’t have enough space to transport them all. Rather than bicker over who would and wouldn’t get to ride back to Hammerhead, the four of them just walked, though Ardyn did… ardently offer Prompto a place up front. 

As hurt as Noct felt, he wasn’t so eager to get Prompto out of his sight that he’d just foist him upon an insane, homeless wizard. He just really wished Ardyn would crawl back into the ditch where Noct’s dad found him in the first place. The fact that Prompto just dumbly ignored how hard he was getting hit on was also itching the back of Noct’s neck. He wished there was more shit to kill.

The walk back to Hammerhead was faster than the walk to the scorpions. When they met back up with Cindy she was bent over the hood of the Regalia, buffing rag in hand. There was a fair smattering of awkward coughing and eyes rolling in far off directions.

“Just in time, y’all!” she called, bounc-BOUNDING towards them. She tucked her thumbs in her pockets and beamed. “She’s all ready for ya! Went ahead and cleaned her up, too. Hope y’all don’t mind. She needed a bit of a detailin’.” 

“Hahaha! Thanks! Looks great!” Prompto supplied from the back of the group. Noct wasn’t even sure if Cindy would be able to see him as deeply tucked behind Gladio’s bulk as he was. 

“I trust that ya’ll managed whatever it was Pawpaw set ye to.” She tossed the keys to Iggy, because he just oozed ‘driver aura,’ twirled around on one foot and gave the Regalia one long run of her fingers along the…flank? Car flank? Wheel…house? What the fuck was that humpy bit even called? 

“Yeah, no problem,” Gladio said, sidling up next to her. Her smile didn’t falter, and she didn’t blush or sputter like most women did when Gladio turned on the charm. Well, what he called charm, anyway. Mostly it was just talking, and girls couldn’t get over the fact that he had sixteen abs.

Noct went alone to inform Cid of their success, and really wished that he hadn’t. The man wanted to talk about his dad, and it went on for a while. Not that Noct didn’t find his dad’s misunderstanding of a solenoid utterly fascinating or anything, but just about anything else in the world sounded better than listening to car babble for another eternity. Once freed from Cid’s clutches, he was met almost immediately with a bottle of water to the face. Well, close to the face anyway. 

Promto held it out to him wordlessly. Noct checked over Prompto’s shoulder, catching Iggy’s signal to hurry things along as he and Gladio piled into the car. Back to Prompto. His face made it so clear that he wanted to talk, looking all somber like that. The sun sank behind Prompto’s head. Noct took the bottle and tore the cap off. Downing half in one go, he walked past Prompto, gently brushing his shoulder with his own. They had things to talk about, but the cold-ass air between them needed to clear. Noct wasn’t sure it was a good idea to talk to Prompto when he felt all full of fire and acid, but they couldn’t go on pretending that everything wasn’t hella awkward.

The car ride gave Noct time to think. It’d been easy to assume that his marriage was going to cause some strain, and he guessed it wasn’t like anything could ever come of him and Prompto anyway. But… Prompto still just ran out of the room. Without a word. Probably twisted his ankle on the stoop or something in his race to get out. That’d at least explain his weird walking. 

“Odd,” Iggy said out of nowhere, breaking the sanctity of Noct’s mope-think. “I was informed that we should expect daemons on the road by the time the sun set.” The headlights cut a clear, almost cheerful path ahead of them. The sun was not quite down, but enough that Noct had to squint to clearly make out the shape of the mountains.

“Dude, don’t jinx it!” Prompto said. Noct could hear him shifting to look at Iggy but refused to look away from the window, he’d probably just get mad at the back of his head. “I mean, that’s a good thing, right?”

Iggy hummed, but Gladio was the one that answered. “Specs just means that it’s weird. I don’t think any of us are chomping at the bit to get in a fight with some hell spawn or something.” Noct wasn’t sure that he didn’t just want to go on some kind of wild killing spree in the dark, but he grunted in agreement. It must not have been a very good grunt because Gladio nudged his foot hard. When Noct looked up, Gladio’s mostly shadowed face was clearly wearing an unimpressed look, one even the dark couldn’t hide the annoyance of. Noct readied himself for another round of ‘what the fuck is your problem, princess’ comments, his arsenal of ‘I’m fines’ and ‘step off, Gladios’ burning the tip of his tongue. 

Luckily, the homeless wizard decided it was time to park before shit got real, and Iggy broke the butter thick tension with a deep sigh. “Seems we’re here.” 

“Look at those lights… That’s the haven, right?” Propmto asked, stepping out of the Regalia the very fucking second it stopped. Two impulses wormed up Noct’s chest. The first was to say ‘no fucking shit’ and the other was to not say that, and at the same time wrap his arms around that thin waist because the world was so big and Prompto so small that he’d probably wander off into it and get lost. Maybe somewhere in the process he’d say something really mean to make himself feel better, but the fire had cooled enough that he couldn’t immediately think of anything. 

Ardyn spoke instead, and he said “Do be mindful, Prompto. It is still dark, and the havens are not particularly large.” He moved his arm like he was about to sling it over Prompto’s shoulders, but no. Just a big, fucking gesture. Overdramatic asshole.

“Let’s go,” Noct grumbled, taking Prompto’s arm before the idiot had a chance to say anything. Neither of them said a word to each other as they climbed up to the flat, glowing surface of the haven. Noct never let go of Prompto’s arm. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Under normal circumstances, Gladio would be yelling at them to help carry everything. Prompto’s best guess was that he was trying to show off for Ardyn. Must have been working, because Ardyn’s big, though oddly soft, voice was still reaching them: “Marvelous! Think you can handle my tent as well?” Gladio would probably do it, too! 

The haven overlooked the vast dessert nothingness. In the dark it was like the maw of some kind of horrible beast. Prompto knew Daemons prowled around out there, could even hear some of them, howling and scratching out in the distance. But, the feeling of walking into a haven was like coming home. It felt safe and easy. Crazy how magic worked. It’d be neat if the whole world could be that easy and safe. But the danger sort of made life worth living.

A world without surprises wasn’t a good one. 

“We need to talk, Prompto.” Noct’s grip tightened on Prompto’s arm for a moment before falling away completely. “Later, okay?” 

Gladio came up the incline, broad arms visibly straining in the low light. “Camp’s a pain to set up in the dark,” he was saying, tossing the stuff on the ground with an over-powered tenderness. He doled out instructions like the taskmaster that Iggy actually was. Despite the big words, it wasn’t so bad. Gladio wound up doing most of the work himself. To keep out of the awkward air between him and Noct, Prompto spent most of the prep time helping Iggy cut vegetables. 

Cooking and fighting had a lot of similarities. Chop, chop, vanquish, probably eat it later. Shooting vegetables opened up a whole host of problems, though. But maybe if the gun shot little paring knives? Little bullet sized paring knives. So cute. Tiny bullet sized anything was pretty much guaranteed to be adorable. Except maybe alligators or hippopotamuses. Hippopotami? Shooting rounds of hippos at enemies or at vegetables would probably garner the same results: pure carnage.

Without a single word of warning, a pair of gloved hands slid over his, the warm leather dragging his skin not unpleasantly. Iggy came in close behind him, gently tugging the knife out of Prompto’s hand. Even though he wasn’t particularly close, the act still felt intimate enough that Prompto was pretty sure he’d read about it in a harlequin romance novel. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see how weirded out everyone else was by this development, only to see Gladio’s broad back and Noct’s pretty-regular back hunched close to the ground trying to make fire happen. Ardyn was already sitting in one of Gladio’s fold-out Coleman chairs, reading a thin book by gas lamp light (also Coleman, Prompto noted. Guess he knew where to shop for Gladio’s birthday). 

“You seem distracted, cannot have you cutting off a finger.” The words were so kind and unaccusing, but Prompto still felt himself getting defensive. Iggy pulled his hands away from Prompto’s. And… was that really necessary? Touching him like that? For that long? Prompto swallowed thickly and felt his cheeks burning. 

“It’s okay. Sorry, Iggy. I was thinking about hippos.” He held open his hand for the knife, but Iggy just took the cutting board and got to work on the remainder. He chopped through three times as much stuff and Prompto had in half the time. Feeling inadequate and kinda squirmy, he decided distracting Ardyn might be fun. 

“What are you reading?” he asked, leaning over beside Ardyn’s shoulder to squint at the text. How the hell did he read in such terrible light? It looked like a completely different language anyway. He imagined that Ardyn probably spoke a lot of different languages.

The book closed undramatically. No suspicious snap! “Most likely not something you’d find terribly interesting. No offense meant, but I am something of a history buff.” 

“I like history.” 

“The kind concerning collapsing of countries because of currency changes?” 

Prompto must have made a strange face because Ardyn laughed. Honestly, it sounded interesting, but like… conversation interesting, not dedicate nine hours over the course of two weeks to absorbing it interesting. Was it any wonder people preferred tv and cellphones? 

“I suspected not,” he said, but as usual, it didn’t sound mean or belittling. “Were you actually curious or are you just bored?” 

Prompto nodded but thought maybe answering that question with ‘yes’ was pretty stupid, so he went on. “That last one. It’s pretty out here, you know? But we’re stuck in, like, an electric cage. You know those invisible leashes that you can put on dogs? So that they can’t go outside of a certain distance? I feel like we’re in one of those, but instead of being in danger of digging up the neighbors’ petunias, we’d just get eaten by monsters.”

“They seem to be quiet tonight, don’t they?” Ardyn turned out to look beyond the scope of Noct’s helpless fire flailing (in the small, distracted part of his mind, Prompto was happy to see Noct’s energy back up). Ardyn’s sharp profile cut a picture in the lamp glow, the red of his hair turned a deep wine color. Prompto had never really been into older guys, or big guys either. It was impossible not to notice that Gladio was a twelve out of ten, but something about the ‘behemoth man swing sword good’ thing never really worked for him. He liked them on the moody side, careless, grumpy, slight with compacted muscle… Anyway, point was, Ardyn was kinda hot, and that felt super weird. 

“Yep! Sure do! Not gonna complain about that at all.” Did adventurers talk about monster density the same way normal people talk about weather? 

“Best not to get used to it,” Ardyn said, and suddenly he was looking at Prompto again with that lazy half grin he always seemed to have. “Eos is dangerous, especially at night, and it’s not the demons you should be worried about so much as the air. You are familiar with Starscourge, yes?” 

“In the passing, wow that’s terrible and we need to find a cure for it other than hoping the Oracle gets there in time way.” 

The answer seemed to satisfy Ardyn in some way, because he didn’t continue that train of thought, instead he said some words that were “you’re a lovely young man, Prompto Argentum.”

Prompto said “Uhhhh” in response and felt that short circuiting feeling happening in his head again. What was he supposed to say!? Can a person just say ‘oh, hey, thanks’ to that? Thankfully, Ardyn didn’t continue that train of thought either. 

“Have you been feeling well today? You seem to be limping.” 

The strange pain in his back and legs had faded throughout the day, but the fight had only served to exacerbate it. While it wasn’t unbearable, he could still feel something pulling at his muscles and nerves. “Oh that? Haha, yeah, I think I just slept wrong, you know?” Did Ardyn really just forget that he’d called Prompto lovely? 

“Good, I’d hate to have to amputate.” 

Awkwardness gave way to curiosity. “Can you do that? Amputate things?” 

“My dear, I can do a great many things, and amputation is not among the most pleasurable.” His tongue and tone curled around the last word and Prompto felt all four syllables falling right into his stomach. His mouth felt hot and awkward, and words refused to come out like he wanted. 

His mouth formed words. “Are you…flirting with me?” 

Ardyn laughed, leaned his wide frame down on his knees, and his eyes sparkled with the light of the newly lit campfire. “Smart boy.” And that grin turned inviting and calm. Prompto didn’t recognize the same kind of lust he saw in Noct. But whatever it was, it was abyss ocean deep and startling. Ardyn looked at Prompto like they’d known each other their whole lives.

Adyn looked like he was about to touch the side of Prompto’s face when Prompto felt himself being jerked back by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face a dark looking Noct who was glaring over his shoulder. “Wanted to talk, remember? Need to get that out of the way before Specs finishes up. Sorry.” Prompto knew the sorry was thrown at Ardyn, but Noct really did not sound very sorry. 

Before Prompto could say another word, he was being dragged down the incline towards the sparky little geode thing that Noct sucked magic out of. Somewhere in there he heard Noct explain to Iggy that they were going to the bathroom. And then suddenly his back was up against the cold, hard surface of the haven’s side. Noct looked down at him, those eyes were dancing with the magic from beside them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d looked surprised at first, those big blue eyes going wide when the wind got knocked out of him. Noct almost slammed him against the rock again just to watch his face. Noct’s gaze fell down the delicate curve of Prompto’s jaw to the exposed length of his long neck. He wanted to sink his teeth into it, leave bruises and blood that would tell that fucking homeless wizard to back up. One of Noct’s hands nestled into the crook of Prompto’s waist right where it flared into his hips. Warmth spread through his fingers and he sighed. 

“We have to talk about this Prom. We can’t keep ignoring each other, we can’t keep pretending that it didn’t happen.” 

Prompto sighed deeply and dipped his head against his collar. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to just take off like I did when you told me… I…” His voice caught, and he didn’t look up. “I didn’t know… What do you say? I mean… Fuck! Why did you have to tell me? You’re… you’re you. You’re my prince, you’re a king’s son, gonna be king one day probably. And I am me, I am a little commoner idiot. Plus, man, you’re getting married. You’re going to have the oracle for a wife. I can’t compete with that! That’s freakin’ scary.” 

That’s it? That’s what he was scared of? Noct pressed his nose against the crown of Prompto’s head. Prompto could use a shower after the day’s labor, but he smelled like home, easy, fresh, and comforting. Noct’s hands went from holding him down to pulling him in, and their chests pressed against each other. Noct swore he could feel Prompto’s heart beating like a bird against his ribs. 

The night was long and quiet. Above them, light chatter and the crackling of the fire cut through the silence of the desert, but even so, the world felt intimate and secluded. He held Prompto close and wished it could last an eternity. But Prompto spoke. He had a way of ruining everything by opening his mouth. 

“You gonna say something?”

“Just that I forgive you. It doesn’t change anything, and I meant what I said. You know who you are, and I know how you feel about yourself and your situation. But I don’t care like you do. I get it though, it seems hopeless. The wedding thing, and the being a prince… thing.” 

Hopeless, hopeless. Why did they bother with any of it? Why had they bothered coming all the way out into the fucking desert? What was the point of getting up in the mornings? Noct chased the thoughts away with the calming scent of Prompto’s hair. They always festered at the bottom of his body, though, peeked through whenever Noct wasn’t distracted enough. Prompto, though, always proved to be a brilliant distraction.

“I-Noct, man, I don’t know what to say to all of it. I want… I want to say what you want to hear, but I’m just…” He could feel Prompto swallow against his chest. 

Whatever Noct expected to feel at the moment of rejection, it wasn’t what actually came over him. Inexplicable serenity. Prompto didn’t push him away, and his words were just a jumble of his own confusion. Not reciprocation. It might never be reciprocation, but somehow it was okay to let it form on its own, see how those feelings developed in the freedom of the big, wide world. Ultimately, Noct was happy enough to love Prompto. Ultimately, Noct was getting married. Ultimately, it wouldn’t matter if Prompto ever felt the same.

“Hey, dude. It’s fine, I get it. I sprung it on you after all the crazy. It’s cool.” He took Prompto’s shoulders and held him at arms’ length. Noct didn’t need sunlight to trace the pattern of freckles across his skin, or to know exactly how that mouth was tilted into an uncharacteristic frown. 

“Are we cool then? Are we… still fighting?” 

Noct pulled him into another hug, but this time Prompto’s arms slid around his waist. “Nah, man. We’re cool.” He let go, and Noct never wanted to meet the man that had less chill than Iggy when he wanted everyone to eat, because over the rush of blood against his ears and the uncomfortable heat growing in his dick, Iggy’s voice called down to them. 

“Your highness, Prompto, please do remember that everyone has to wait on you.” 

Noct could just vaguely see Iggy over the edge of the haven. He thanked whoever was listening that they’d picked a good spot in terms of the ‘not being seen’ department. Quickly, almost as a reflex, he kissed Prompto, felt the surprised little gasp. Fire set under his skin, and he just wanted to sink his nails into Prompto’s soft shoulders, unfurl his tongue into Prompto’s waiting, warm mouth. Their teeth clacked painfully, but that only made the hairs on the back of Noct’s neck stand on end. 

Iggy called again and Noct pulled away. Had he been pushing Prompto that hard against the rock the whole time? He lessened his grip and tried to meet Prompto’s eyes. Easy enough. Prompto was smiling, too. Noct let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “C’mon.” 

Dinner was predictably awful, like… just the worst. Everyone of the weirdos Noct was traveling with ate the vegetables as though they weren’t the most offensive things on Eos. They always did that! Was Noct the only sane one on the planet? The artichoke hearts got roasted over the fire, and that seemed to be the biggest selling point for Gladio about the whole thing. Noct wasn’t sure what was so great about anything roasted over a fire. Still terrible. Still a fucking artichoke heart.

Also, Ardyn was terrible. Just the absolute worst. Smarmy and worldly, and hitting on Prompto so transparently. The two talked a ton for people that barely knew each other, and the way that Ardyn pretended to be interested in Prompto’s photography made Noct’s skin crawl. 

But the worst part came after dinner. 

Noct and Gladio got roped into cleaning up while Iggy drank coffee (before bed, too. What. A. Champion). Near the fire, Prompto was sprawled out on the ground, legs splayed, warming his hands. And he sat at Ardyn’s feet while the man just flicked away at Prompto’s camera! Sometimes Noct could make out the sound of Ardyn’s low, growly voice, sometimes Prompto responded. 

The worst worst part came at bed time. 

“Yeah, I don’t have a problem sharing a tent with him,” Prompto said.

Noct blinked, once, twice, thrice, five million times. No. No fucking way.

“Specs, we can’t leave Prompto alone with him!” Noct hissed into Iggy’s ear as the other three divvied their gear between the two tents. 

A deep sigh, but Iggy went on, voice clear of frustration. “Noct, they are small tents, and I am not allowing you to be without your Shield in the dead of night in the middle of the desert. It simply is not up for debate. Someone would have to stay with Advisor Izunia, and all the better that someone should volunteer.” 

“Can’t you do it?” 

Iggy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. A beat passed. “No. Though I am charmed to see that your concern for Prompto’s safety does not extend to me as well.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean. If he tries something with you, you’d just slit his throat or something. Prompto would just… probably write it off as an accident. Like the guy could be balls deep and-“ 

Iggy held up a hand. “Becoming graphic will only incite your own rage, your highness. Prompto will be fine for one night. We can consider alternative options in the coming days, but for tonight it will be fine.” 

Noct looked over his shoulder. Pompto was doubled over in laughter as Ardyn vanished into the tent with a sleeping bag. A magenta sleeping bag. Noct nearly wanted to start laughing too. But he was mad, dammit! “Okay, fine. You say that now.” Noct heaved a deep sigh. Prompto was a big boy and a crack shot. He would be okay. 

Noct still made sure to give an extended good night to him before Gladio had to all but drag him into their tent. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Infatuation did not come without its share of niggling feelings. For example, Ardyn, for years, held the niggling feeling that being close to Prompto Argentum would prove less stimulating than he’d fantasized. Deep in his core he hoped that as he grew close in proximity to Prompto the glitter would fade, so to speak. He hoped it so deeply, for then the world could make sense again. 

But it was not to be. 

The boy proved himself clumsy, helpless in conversation, distracted, self-conscious. Alas, despite, or perhaps because of, those short comings, he still shone like a beacon in the dark. When Prompto smiled, dimples appeared in the corners of his lips, something Ardyn had not noticed until that evening. At once, Ardyn wondered what it would be like to lick cream off them. An unusual thought, one that Ardyn indulged only momentarily, but one that persisted on an off all evening.

And bless him, that angelic little boy offering to stay with him as though he wasn’t willingly walking into the arms of a predator. As far as anyone knew, Ardyn was being the perfect gentleman, though couldn’t help flustering the little angel from time to time. 

Was Prompto already growing smitten? Ardyn loathed to hope, so he didn’t. 

The reality of the situation came crashing down on him when he heard the zip of the tent. The light from the fire barely penetrated, but blindness was something other people suffered through. Even in the dark, Prompto’s profile was clear, the awkward set of his shoulders. A thousand thoughts went through that boy’s head, and all of them were apparent in the expressions on his face.

More unusual thoughts occurred to Ardyn. Did Prompto talk in his sleep? What did he wear to bed? Would it be too early to just take him over their mess of blankets and sleeping bags, tear the voice from him loudly enough to disturb the others? Would it be too much to look at all of that hidden skin, to devour and possess every inch of him? Perhaps, too much too soon, and Ardyn was patient. He had always been so patient.

But that patience was running distressingly thin. 

“Hey… hah… I never thought of you as the camping type.” 

Of course not, but the lavish life Ardyn lived the past several years had not made him forget his centuries of wandering. He was no stranger to the night sky or the forests after dark. He wanted to walk that silent, beautiful world with Prompto. 

“You may be surprised. But, in this case, you may not. I have never cared for it. As I’ve gotten older it’s gotten less and less pleasant. I suppose it’s the ravages of age. Old men and hard surfaces never did mix well. I suspect I will need an incredible measure of help come morning.” 

Prompto laughed, but it was so sweetly unsure. Poor thing couldn’t tell if he was kidding. Ardyn swallowed the sound into his soul and still longed for more of it. He started shedding his clothes, shame long forgotten, and more than curious about what reaction to expect from Prompto. 

The boy looked away. A fan of pink crept down his neck. When he blushed it came in spots and swaths. A set of those spots looked like Ardyn’s hand would fit over it so sweetly. Creating awkward tension between the two of them would not do, however, so he made quick work his clothes and slipped into his dressing gown. “My apologies, Prompto, I just imagined we should get that part out of the way.” Better that Prompto not look. Ardyn’s body was in exceptional order and just being close to the boy brought about obvious…stirrings. Ardyn smiled to himself. So close, yet still a complete secret. 

“Hey, it’s cool. All men here. You know.” He laughed that precious nervous laugh again. “Can you… turn around, or cover your eyes or something?” 

“Certainly.” Adorable, little fool. 

Ardyn turned, but he listened. The slide of cloth on skin, the stumbling as he tried to figure out how to undress while on his knees (Ardyn thought this would be an important skill for the boy to master). The boy’s eyes were untrained, could not see in the dark the way Ardyn could. His ears could not detect the subtle shift in his direction.

Ah.

And there he was. Struggling into a tank top, his pants still around one ankle. Ardyn never fancied Prompto as the type to wear boxers, but he certainly wasn’t disappointed. Prompto had angled himself away, allowing for an uninterrupted view of his ass. Ardyn swallowed, found himself having to blink spots out of his eyes. Desire welled up in his chest, almost spilled out of his throat. He could feel it. Sounds warred behind his lips, pathetic whimpers, declarations of intent. 

He'd known the boy was thin, but the curve of his waist into his hips bordered on the delicate. The enticing line of his spine made a disruption of his expanse of pale, freckled skin. And damn him! Ardyn never expected to wax poetic about a being of flesh and blood, let alone one so inelegant as Prompto Argentum. Ardyn could have licked his lips at the generous swell of his ass pressing against the thin fabric of his underwear. Ardyn cocked his head slightly, felt the noises press against the backs of his teeth.

Prompto’s flesh looked soft, young. Ardyn had wide and long hands, and he could easily imagine himself cupping them around Prompto’s ass, prying the boy open. In Ardyn’s fantasies, Prompto was always ready to take him immediately. The how and whys didn’t matter. But seeing him, nearly nude, long, beautiful, ripe, the reality came into being. Ardyn would prepare him, loving and long. He longed to worship the boy with his mouth. Ardyn basked in the thought, how rewarding it would feel to bury his face in the warmth between his cheeks and lick, suck, and kiss this absolute angel into a mess of tears and helplessness. Running his fingers against those little streaks up and down Prompto’s hips and stomach…

Those precious seconds ended all too soon. Prompto dressed, sliding self-consciously into a sleeping bag printed with cartoons of chocobos and cactuars. 

“Is this gonna be weird? I mean, you know? In a tent with a guy you barely know? It’s a little weird for me, but I’m adaptable. I’ve never slept in a tent before, either. Gladio always tried to get us to go camping, but it just was never really my thing. But maybe it can be. You can’t beat that view of the sky.” 

Ardyn chuckled and stretched luxuriously, his long legs ‘accidentally’ brushing against Prompto’s. The boy made no comment and did not move. Perhaps he felt safe with the layers of blankets and sleeping bags between them.

Absolutely precious. 

“Hmm. I am not uncomfortable, if that is what concerns you. As for the sky, considering it a never-ending gift. From where we are, we are so small and insignificant.”

Prompto huffed and shifted. “Shit, dude. Way to make a guy feel bad.” 

Ardyn felt a smile stretch across his face. The ceiling of the tent undulated with the stale breeze of the desert outside. The cold started to creep in. “Now, why on Eos would that make you feel bad? Being so small gives one an excellent vantage of the divine. Being so large, or so important, one can easily lose sight of the transcendental.”

Prompto hummed beside him, thoughtful and low. The boy was always thinking. Always worrying, or perhaps always trying to understand. Ardyn’s heart lurched. Pride welled up in his chest and throat. He would be the one to give this boy the world. His would be the name on Prompto’s lips in the throes of divine pleasure. 

“I think I get it. Being small lets you still see the big stuff for the big stuff it is. Like, if I was as big as the sky, then the sky wouldn’t be so… great.” The words failed, but that was alright. Just the warmth of his voice heated the inside of Ardyn’s stomach. For many foolish seconds Ardyn considered that me might have actually had a soul for the boy to thaw. 

“That’s exactly right, my dear. It pays to be small so that you may more accurately and lovingly experience the divine.” 

“Do you think the gods think of themselves as gods? Like, being…like that? Just being that way, and only seeing everything smaller than themselves? I think the world would get kind of dull like that.” 

If he wanted an answer, he didn’t wait for one. The heat and exhaustion of the day caught up with him, and his breath evened out into something approaching sleep. Ardyn felt no desire to deny Prompto his rest. 

Outside the daemons kept their distance, and the workings of the world went on uninterrupted. Ardyn’s plans marched ever forward as did the army that would shatter his traveling companions. But that was dawns away. Just mere days until everything he’d worked for came to be. Just days until he could claim his rightful place. Just days until he could finally have everything the world had promised him. 

Until then, though, Ardyn would be the perfect gentleman. Even if he’d already been a little careless in leaving the boy with a limp.


	4. The Day They Found the Bones of God 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, some actual filth has appeared. 
> 
> Just a note on the combat. I wanted the combat to have a little more weight than it would usually have in the game. Killing daemons isn't just something that happens flippantly and very often. Is this an excuse to write less combat because I suck at it? Do I intend for Gladio to die to a flan? The possibilities are endless! 
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoy it. Getting this chapter on paper has been more of a fight than I'm honestly willing to admit. It's been a long wait. Hopefully the next wait will be shorter for you all. Thank you for sticking with me!

One of immortality’s little curses came in the form of insomnia. At first, the scourge hurt and ate and bled, impossible to sleep through. Agony, really. The human mind, however, is a marvelous thing. Ardyn adjusted to that little curse and spat in the face of it in the only way he knew how: productivity. The gods gave him those dark, quiet hours as a punishment. Why not continue to subvert and disrespect them by making use of those hours? 

At first, the thoughts came political and poetic. He thought that Lucis was such a funny place. It tugged at light and dark as though it was morbidly afraid of both. Those garish death motifs… were they a warning or a promise? And to whom, exactly? A memento mori, or an effigy? But then, what was death but another kind of sleep? 

Ardyn, deathless and sleepless, had no answers for those sorts of questions. So rather than ask, he acted in those endless, torturous hours.

He stared up at the ceiling of the tent, chewing his lip. Prompto was very close, breath hitching in the dark. Whether the sounds were those of pleasure or of nightmares, Ardyn did not know. Not that it really mattered. What mattered was how close to veneration it sounded. How the twist of Prompto’s lips could almost make out Ardyn’s name.

Ardyn shifted slightly, thumb closing over the slit of his cock, nearly bucking into his palm when he heard Prompto whine. The squelching sounds were lewd and filthy, and Ardyn found himself letting out his own deep sigh. Gently, he ran the tips of his fingers along the side of his glans, like he imagined Prompto would. The boy would be gentle, he’d decided long ago. He also fancied that Prompto never experienced an uncircumcised penis, hoped he’d be curious and handsy. He didn’t fancy thinking of Prompto’s other experiences. Ideally the boy would be virginal, but he’d accept him regardless. Happily. He still had so much to learn, so many beautiful sounds to give that no one else had ever heard.

The blond whined again, this time muffled. Finally, Ardyn turned his eyes, just his eyes, toward Prompto. A thick, oily, black appendage slid down his throat, another wrapped gently around it like a choker. Or a collar. Ardyn enjoyed both words immensely. The poor boy likely had a hard time breathing, but he would not wake, Ardyn made sure of that. The blankets and sleeping bag had been pulled away, the tank top pushed nearly to the boy’s chin to expose his stomach and chest. Freckles ran down his collar, nearly to his ribs, where their positions highlighted the ridges of his bones. He must have had such soft skin. Ardyn didn’t care to see Prompto’s nipples stimulated, preferred to watch them hardening in the cool, near-morning air. And how they strained, going a darker shade of pink as they swelled. Ardyn sucked his teeth as he watched them, overcome with something unnamable that twisted his stomach in knots. It was something like want but very, very bitter. He wondered if he pressed a finger gently against just the tip of one if he would feel the warmth and beat of his heart. He imagined he probably could. Prompto had rather prominent nipples, easy for Ardyn to roll them between his fingers or pull between his teeth.

The boy’s stomach fluttered, the tentacle around his neck tightened. That little cry… Ardyn closed his eyes in sheer bliss. His hand became a fist around his heated cock, but he moved slowly as to savor the time they had.   
The mindflayer was on the small side, Ardyn thought perhaps it was young, but daemons didn’t really work that way. Compact was a better word, good for the limited space they had. The thing was thankfully silent as it worked Prompto’s mouth open and lubricated its thick tentacle. 

Such a closeness to daemons allowed for some amount of insight into them. They were destructive, yes, but also sinful. 

Lustful. 

Those long eyelashes gummed up with unshed tears. That endearing blotchy blush ran down almost to Prompto’s navel, stopped just a bit shy of the wispy, gold hair that lead a trail into his boxers. The bulge there was modest, if not small, and the tip left a growing, sticky wet spot on the fabric. Ardyn watched the movement of Promto’s flesh under the cloth as the mindflayer worked his little body. Ardyn so wanted to get his own hands on Prompto… But, he was a perfect gentleman.   
One wiggling appendage shoved more than eased the waistband of Prompto’s boxers down his thighs. Modest was an appropriate word, but perhaps ‘pretty’ described it most aptly. Prompto was slender and pink, and somewhat under average with a well-maintained thatch of dark gold curls. Though Ardyn had seen it before, seeing it in person, so to speak, was a completely new experience. The thrum of the little angel’s heartbeat made itself apparent in the pulsing of his cock. Despite its modest size, it seemed to be a bit on the heavy side, or perhaps that lazy list against Prompto’s abdomen was just natural to it.

Prompto squirmed in the daemon’s embrace. Ardyn could feel the mindflayer. If it had breath in the traditional sense, it would have been panting. The black, starry miasma of its life force sped and sped through it as Prompt trembled under its violent lust. It only did what was natural.

Take. 

Violate. 

Ardyn saw the glimmer of Prompto’s spit-wet teeth as the mindflayer pulled its tentacle free and down. Down. Wiggled between those milk-white thighs and vanished. Whatever pleasure the daemon found there, Ardyn was not privy to, but he could imagine. And imagine he did when Prompto bit his lip, when his closed eyes screwed tighter. How like silk it must feel. How the smooth, warm fat of Prompto’s cheeks would mold and move.

Like a child, Ardyn thought when stars exploded behind his eyes, he came, messy and excessive on his own hand and up his abdomen. His strokes turned lazy, pulling several, weaker ribbons of white to get tangled in the dark hair across his stomach. Filthy, but he didn’t mind it as much as he used to. He didn’t mind anything as much as he used to. 

Lazily, he turned on his side to face Prompto, so close he could almost feel the ghost of Prompto’s breath against his neck and cheeks. Those eyes all screwed up in pain or pleasure. Both, probably. He wanted to touch so badly, but that moment felt wrong, like he’d break something holy. Ardyn clenched his fists in the fabric of his blanket, suddenly feeling too big for his skin. 

Once upon a time, long ago, Ardyn could imagine offering Prompto as a sacrifice. A face that pretty, and a life led so blithely. Once upon a time Ardyn may have been a man so full of faith that he wouldn’t have even thought to brutalize the boy himself. No, he would have left it to the benign higher powers to masticate and violate the helpless, beautiful fruit of their creation. Once upon a time, though, Ardyn was a man of mending. He fixed where the gods would not, and he did so gladly and thanklessly.   
Knowing that once upon a time he could have been so stupid set his so-called soul aflame with rage and odium. 

The gods’ betrayal burned like a brand, it made a fool of him. But at least it made something possible. 

Ardyn could create. 

Ardyn created Prompto. 

And Ardyn understood the appeal of creating lambs. He understood the desire for the gentleness and trust of the faithful. He understood the craving to make a sacrifice of those same lambs. 

The mindflayer had begun petting Prompto through the pain, the tentacle around his neck opting to run through the boy’s hair. Curious. The thing hadn’t been so gentle last time. It kept working into him, several minutes of dragging soft gasps and helpless trembling before it retracted, curling in on itself and muttering its maddening little mutters. Dawn broke somewhere in the distance and the daemon faded away like a ghost. 

Alone with Prompto, Ardyn allowed himself to be weak. He touched him, just slightly, skin to skin. Flesh on flesh. He slid his thumb up the side of Prompto’s cheek, pressed it right where his dimple would appear on the left side. He pressed in until his nail bit into that beautiful skin. Not enough to hurt, never enough to hurt. And then his thumb pressed against his bottom lip. His lips were as smooth and pink up close as he’d imagined, on the thin side, a little rough patch in the dead center from chewing it. He pulled it down, revealed Prompto’s bottom teeth. He looked benign down to his bones. He pressed against Prompto’s front two teeth. Did he dare to gently ease his teeth open? 

No. 

Ardyn pulled his hand back slowly. Careful not to touch Prompto’s heated skin, he rolled down his top. Arousal coiled in the pit of his stomach. Prompto’s nipples were still apparent, pressing swollen and warm against the tight fabric of his shirt. Ardyn skimmed his fingers over them very lightly. The fabric was no replacement for the real thing, but it drew a delicious shudder out of Prompto regardless. Ardyn wished he could let the boy wake, see those sea-glass eyes open, see them dull and light in pleasure. Sweetness filled Ardyn’s soul, because someday soon Prompto would beg and roil for Ardyn’s touch, would thank him for it. He could not possibly understand yet. Faith took time and kindness, and Ardyn knew Prompto well enough to know he would fight it.   
But he would be the first at the altar. 

~

The ache in his spine and thighs was worse and Prompto was fucking dying. He stared at the ceiling of the tent as morning rolled in and wished for death. Was he really that out of shape? He knew that traipsing around Luscis would be hard work and all, and the fighting would be more physical stress on top of it… But, dude.

Ardyn slept like a rock in his cocoon on the other side of the tent. Prompto thought that his hair probably looked hilarious first thing in the morning, but at least from the back it didn’t look very different. Did Ardyn just always have bedhead? Like, he didn’t even have to try for that look? He just woke up like that! Neat. 

Prompto fished for his phone and blundered through his dailies. Little mobile games didn’t have nearly enough content to keep him attached for hours. Naturally, arbitrary wait times ate at his soul and patience, but no way was he feeding into the microtransaction machine. Noct did enough of that for a whole country of gamers. 

Someone was awake and moving around the camp. 

Iggy. Iggy was up moving around the camp. Prompto would be fooling himself to think it’d be anyone else.

If Prompto was sore and lethargic, getting Noct out of bed was going to take an act of the Astrals. Gladio would have to scoop him up like a pancake! And though he wasn’t really a late sleeper, per se, Gladio knew the importance of a good night’s sleep and usually couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed until he was good and ready. 

Careful not to bother Ardyn (because Prompto really did not want to know what he was like if he got grumpy), Prompto grabbed his camera and unzipped the tent as quietly as possible. 

Stepping out onto the stones of the haven sent a shock of cold up Prompto’s feet and into the back of his skull. Where did the air get off being so cold in the morning! And in the desert of all places! 

“Good morning, Prompto,” Iggy called without even bothering to turn around. Somehow, the man was already completely dressed and ready for the day. Prompto felt suddenly kind of stupid in his boxers and tank top. He also felt cold. Like really cold. Were deserts always so cold!? 

“Hey, Iggy, why’s it so cold?” 

“You’re cold?” 

Prompto made a noise of confirmation in the back of his throat as he sat down in one of the (COLEMAN) fold-out chairs. The weird plastic-fabric was about negative nine degrees, and when it touched the back of his legs, Prompto was pretty sure his mind got catapulted into a new dimension. 

“Why is everything so cold!”

“Hush, Prompto, others are sleeping.” Iggy walked beside him, and slung his fancy, mind-bogglingly expensive coat across Prompto’s shoulders. The warmth of Iggy’s body clung to it, and it immediately melted into Prompto’s shoulders and arms. It smelled nice too… clean and exact, but like the kind of cologne that cost a lot of money to be understated.

He found himself cuddling into it even as he said: “C’mon, Iggy. You don’t have to do that.” 

“Certainly not, and I do fully expect you to pay me back for it. Come here, please.” Prompto shot over, pressing his shoulder against Iggy’s arm. He was warming a pot over one of the eyes and unwrapping a stick of butter.   
“All that stuff go in the armiger?” Prompto asked. 

Iggy laughed under his breath. “I imagine it’d be difficult to carry otherwise.” 

Prompto nodded in understanding and watched for a moment. Iggy set to melting butter in the pot and handed a wooden spoon to Prompto. The two fell into an easy silence for a while, occasionally punctuated with Iggy explaining something, or instructing him to stir faster. 

A pot of butter and flour eventually turned into a sandwich through sheer wizardry, and the world did not seem so cold. Iggy was easy to be quiet with, but Prompto always wanted to talk. 

“So… I heard that a diplomat to the Empire died,” he started. “And I mean like… heard heard because I never saw anything about it online or in the news or anything. I mean… that’s completely crazy, right? The Empire is trying to play all nice about this wedding thing and someone dies? That didn’t really happen right?” 

Iggy paused in his frilly, green lettuce arranging and breathed a few loud breaths through his nose. “Our men investigating the situation believe it conducted by citizens of the empire, not a marked political attack.” 

“…So it did happen.” 

Iggy’s nod was tight, as was the forced little smile. Prompto suspected that he really didn’t feel like talking about work, but he just burned to talk about it! It came tumbling out like a dumb, rude river. 

“Okay, so that happened. We’re out here in Lucis, which is, like, what? Like, 80% Nif territory or something?” 

“You must have learned something about the country at large during your training, no?” Prompto nodded, so Iggy went on. “While it’s more complex than that, you are basically correct. The logistics are both uninteresting and never ending, but Lucis is still considered somewhat annexed despite decreased Empire presence in the country. Our safety is all but guaranteed given the circumstances, however.” 

Prompto said “oh,” and looked down at his sandwich. Politics always seemed like magical chess or something when Prompto had been a civilian. Though he’d gotten more concerned about them as he moved up, he’d yet to learn anything particularly useful. Iggy’ words made sense in his head, but he still couldn’t quite see how real they’d become. Like, the words were there! But even with words like annexed and… wedding, people still rode chocobos and baked bread. People still needed places to live. Did other people care, really? Their lives went on, normal or not, while people like the royals -like Prompto- played the pieces in their lives that changed everything. That killed them. Prompto shook his head to clear the thoughts.

“So, then what’s the wedding for? Are we getting the land back or…?” 

Iggy sighed again, and this one sounded like ‘stop, Prompto,’ but he talked anyway. “The parameters are messy and still being finalized. Forgive me for assuming, but I imagine you wouldn’t be all that interested.” That stung a little, so Prompto nuzzled into the collar of the coat and breathed in the sharp, Iggy smell again. “But, since you are a Crownsguard I could procure the documentation for you, if you’ve a mind to read it.” 

Okay, so maybe he really wasn’t all that interested. 

“Nah. Thanks, Igster. What is this?” He held up the sandwich. He didn’t miss how Iggy’s shoulders eased a little. Familiar territory. 

“It’s called a croque madame.” 

Prompto hummed while appreciating how the egg on top looked like a sunny little hat. “Of course, not the detestable croque monsieur! I hate that guy.” 

“Then I shall refrain from making it for you in the future.” 

“Wait, that’s a thing?” 

Six, the culinary world was wild! 

“Indeed. Now would you mind terribly waking his Highness and Gladio before breakfast gets cold?”

“Ardyn, too?”

Iggy went still a moment, in thought no doubt. “Let him be.” 

Prompto watched for a moment as Iggy placed something metal and tall on the cooktop. It looked like something coffee would probably come out of, and Prompto felt himself flushing in shame. He’d gotten all up in Iggy’s personal time. Again. He felt like he was always doing that! 

He shrugged out of Iggy’s jacket and draped it over the other man’s shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll do that. My blood’s on your hands if Noct murders me, though!” He laid his sandwich with the others and turned to his target.

The plan of attack was simple. He beat wildly upon the roof of the tent for several seconds before throwing the tiny door open. Gladio was already up, tugging on a tank top. He leveled a glare at Prompto and climbed over Noct’s very angry looking body.   
“You didn’t have to do that, you know. Make you feel better at least?” Gladio asked as he stretched to his full height. Gods, that must have felt good. The tents were fine and all (Gladio would allow no other opinion), but behemoth men having to curl up in them? Big guy, big space needs. Prompto couldn’t help but be a little jealous of that stretch game, though. Bet Ardyn probably felt pretty similar.

“Yo, you wanna run with me?” Gladio asked. “Sand’s great for it, and we need to work your legs out. Game?” 

“Totes! Lemme just make sure that Noct’s okay.” 

“I’m fiiiiiine.” The words curled out of the tent like miasma. 

“Just get the princess up, I’m leaving without you in two minutes,” Gladio warned. 

Prompto wheedled inside the tent and plonked down on his stomach right next to Noct. He would have looked like he was still asleep if it weren’t for the fact that he was glaring hard enough at the top of the tent that it looked in danger of spontaneous combustion. 

Was it spontaneous if it had a fluffy, dark haired source, though? 

An arm wrapped around his waist and Prompto found himself dragged against Noct’s chest. His best friend smelled musty and tent-y, but it was still nice. Prompto could also really appreciate that Noct had forgone a shirt, and he swiped a totally sneaky look down Noct’s physique. They were similar in a lot of ways, but so different in others. 

Though Prompto was smaller, his body was fuller than Noct’s. Noct was so handsome and lean and smooth all over. Prompto was… just Prompto. It had been a long time since he’d had any very serious hang ups about his body, stretch marks notwithstanding, but he still didn’t understand why Noct was so compact and hard and lean while he himself was just… Thighs? Like… Muscles, sure, but sinew and stretch marks and thighs. 

Maybe there were still a few hang ups. 

“Y’alright?” Noct finally graveled out after several long seconds. “Bastard didn’t do nothing, right?” 

It took Prompto a moment to realize who Noct was talking about and he giggle-snorted. “Uh… No. Ew, dude. We slept like nine feet away from each other and talked about how cool it is being small.” Noct’s skin was soft under his cheek, so Prompto pressed a little closer to that warmth and listened to the steady thrum of his prince’s heartbeat. 

The closest thing to Noct’s face Prompto could see was his chin. And yet the glowering intensified into a palpable mist of young-adult angst and fury. “I bet he likes ‘em small.” 

“Noooooct!” Prompto smacked his side -totally did not stop to think about how nice and warm Noct felt- and wiggled out of his grasp. “Dude! Stop being gross, okay? It’s weird. You like trying to set me up with him or something? ‘Cause no.”

To be fair, Noct’s attempt to rise from his coffin of blankets was kinda successful, but he just sorta wound up laying back on his elbows and trying to make eye contact through his hair. “You don’t remember how hard he was hitting on you last night? And you were giggling like a fucking school girl about it.” 

Prompto bit back the need to argue for all of three seconds. “I was not, and stop getting mad at me for shit someone else is doing! Six, Noct, it’s not like he threw me over his lap and pulled my pants off or something. Plus, he knows like EVERYONE at the Citadel, he’s probably just a flirty type of guy. You just give off the ‘don’t you dare’ vibe. He’d probably try if you weren’t so off-putting.” 

“I’m not off-putting and don’t make excuses. It’s not him, it’s you.” Noct seemed to realize how that sounded a second later. “Hey, no. Not like… Not like you’re asking for it or are being like a damsel about it or something. I just don’t think it’s everyone. I think it’s just you. He wants a piece of Prompto, and he can’t have it.” 

“You’re seein’ shit, man! Now get up. Iggy made sandwiches with hats, and I’m going running with Gladio.” 

Noct didn’t fight it anymore and crawled out of the tent. 

Prompto scarfed down his sandwich, ignoring the indignant noises Iggy made in protest before crawling back into his own tent and changing as quietly as possible. Ardyn was still asleep, or at least pretending, and Prompto didn’t have the blessing of the night to make it less awkward if the advisor of Lucis got an eyeful of Prompto bod. 

The desert had finally decided to start getting its shit together, and by the time he started stretching with Gladio the air had gone from confusing to ‘somewhat brisk,’ as Iggy called it. They loosened up in silence for a bit, and Gladio clapped him too hard on one shoulder. 

“Ow. Also, where are we going?”

Gladio shrugged. “Around? You see any landmarks of note, you just let me know.” 

Prompto squinted into the coming morning. Bush, bush, scraggly bush, rock. Okay, whatever. “Right, got it. Didn’t have to be a dick about it, though.” 

Gladio laughed and didn’t give any warning before he just took off running. 

“Son of a bitch!” Prompto yelled as he darted after him.

The air burned strangely and his legs seemed less like jelly even if the pain and tightness didn’t stop. Predictably, he was much slower than normal, and much much slower than Gladio “Fitness God, God of Fitness” Amicitia.   
By the time they’d finished and looped back around to the haven, Prompto was limping and miserable. Also, sand weaseled its way into a lot of places sand had no business being, and Prompto fucking hated the desert. Too hot. Too sand. Whose dumb idea was it to have Crownsguard dress in black? That person was the biggest douche in the world. 

“Blondie, you wanna explain what that floundering was about?” Gladio asked after a bottle’s worth of water vanished into his face. 

“Not sure, my dude. I guess I’m just more out of shape than I-“

“Bullshit. Are you alright, Prom?”

The sharpness of Gladio’s voice cut out anything negative Prompto had prepared. Gladio was worried. About him. Just like any normal friend would be. Prompto felt like a baby for feeling his eyes welling up, but he didn’t dwell on it too much. 

“Yeah. I’m okay. There’s just been something up since the day before yesterday. I think all the running and stuff just… uh… annoyed it. Annoyed my muscles and joints and stuff.” His back hurt, too, but that had eased as he ran. His thighs felt a little better, too, just so fucking tight and achy. 

“Y’okay to fight?” 

Oh. Right. Noct. The Royal and his Royal Shield. The kind of people that had titles with capital letters. Royal Tagalong seemed like a fitting title, but not one deserving of capital letters. 

“Yeah, no problem, man. I got this.” To prove his point, he gave Gladio a double thumbs up and the man rolled his eyes but smiled. 

“Ain’t just that, squirt, but good to know. This isn’t gonna be an easy ride, just gotta be sure you’re the best you can be.”

Prompto decided to take it positively. Gladio did care. Gladio was worried for several reasons about Prompto, and not just because Prompto had the absolutely horrifying task of making sure the crown prince of Lucis didn’t die. They were friends, and friends worried about friends, and Gladio was worried about Prompto. A friend. 

Everything was fine. 

Ardyn was awake when they got back to camp, and strangely it looked as though between him, Noct, and Iggy, almost everything had been packed away. Prompto’s stuff sat on one of the two chairs still around the cold firepit, camera on top. Prompto swept it up in one hand and his bag in the other. 

“Geez, y’all got shit done! Spoil a guy, why don’t cha?” 

Ardyn chuckled around the rim of a coffee mug. “Gladly.” 

“Okay, first of all!” 

“Your Highness! Prompto, would you mind terribly finishing the packing?” Iggy asked, though he never took his eyes off Noct and his armfuls of tent. 

Prompto saluted at him and gathered his bag and chairs. He and Noct wiped out the gas stove and miscellaneous remaining equipment in less than fifteen minutes. The trek down to the cars was a chatty one. Prompto couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Ardyn was regaling Iggy with something impressive and long-winded. Iggy made non-committal noises every now and then. Too polite to ask him to shut up, Prompto guessed. 

“So, what’s the plan for today, anyway?” Prompto asked over the top of the Regalia as Iggy worked on his driving gloves.

“The Advisor knows the location of a royal tomb nearby, supposedly a town was there at some point, but fell sometime after the Great War. It’s been full of daemons for some time. There has not been a particularly good opportunity to reclaim the tomb. Now seems as good a time as any.” He slid into the car easily as if he hadn’t just told Prompto they were going to liberate a town from the daemon scourge. 

“And… you think we can do it?” 

“And what do you propose we do?” Gladio asked from the back seat. He’d already pulled out some trashy looking novel. “Just leave a royal tomb all desecrated?” 

Noct was a little kinder. “It’ll be fine, Prom. Ardyn says the place has been sealed up pretty much since the end of the war. It can only be SO bad.” 

What they found on the north end of Leide was not at all what Prompto was expecting. When someone says ‘town’ one does not immediately think ‘rubble pile/abandoned construction site.’ And yet! And fucking yet! That’s what the thing was, crumbly walls and nothingness. 

Ardyn lead them through the pile of rubble and dust as though he visited the place every Saturday after lunch. Ardyn coughed into his ridiculous sleeve as he turned to them. “From what I’ve read, the town really was quite something in its day. A center of trade and riches. Shame how war tears the world apart.” He started patting around his coat.

Iggy nodded at him in agreement, but seemed kind of impatient. Noct made absolutely no secret of his annoyance.

“Yeah, okay, so it’s an old town. What are we looking for exactly?”

“We? We are exactly where we need to be. Me, on the other hand? I am looking for the key. Certainly, I would not have misplaced-Ah.” From one of the abyssal folds of his coat, Ardyn produced said key. Or, at least A key. He probably had more than one ancient tomb key hidden in his Coat of Holding. 

“Oh, nifty,” Prompto said. He felt Noct’s elbow dig into his side. 

Once more, people tend to paint certain pictures when they use certain words. Words like ‘tomb,’ for example, did not mean horrific, dark tunnel. It meant horrific, dark death room. But inside the door of the tomb lay… a dark tunnel.   
“Not exactly what I expected,” Noct breathed by Prompto’s ear. 

Inside the air stood still, a deadly kind of still. Darkness less existed and more loomed inside, and the path in was dirty and looked like the kinda thing you’d have to slide down on your ass to avoid broken bones. 

Ardyn went in first, and behind him everyone turned on their vest lights. Those things had to have a formal name or something, but if they did, Prompto certainly didn’t know what it was. His light caught something by one of the earthen walls, and he broke from the group, ignoring Iggy’s hiss of warning from behind him. 

“Hey, these look like power cables,” he said, hefting one of the heavy cords up closer to his face. 

Someone hummed, and that someone was Ardyn. “A fortuitus find, Prompto.” 

Prompto wasn’t sure if Ardyn was making fun of him or not, but the praise still made his cheeks burn. “Haha, it’s cool. I just…” He cleared his throat and stood up. “We should follow it right?” 

Everyone agreed, but part of Prompto really kind of wished they hadn’t. It became more and more apartment as they went that people had lived down here. Alcoves were cut into the earth walls where the remains of peoples’ lives just chilled like nothing was amiss. In one spot two sleeping bags and an old lantern, in another a metal framed cot with an old doll on it. Prompto really didn’t want to dwell on that particular image. The question ‘what happened to these people?’ burned his tongue, but he suspected that Ardyn or Iggy would have an answer that he didn’t like, so he kept it to himself. 

Eventually they came across some kind of big machine. And not just any kind of some kind of big machine! A generator! The kind of big machine that made dark, scary ass bunkers a lot less dark and a lot less scary! Probably. Or maybe it’d be more scary. Anyway, he knelt down beside it, and though he’d never seen one in person before, he certainly had a working understanding of how a machine that ran on a current worked. 

“Can you fix it?” Noct asked. His voice had the kind of doubt in it that Prompto knew he shouldn’t take seriously, but it still hurt him a little. 

“Yeah, I think so. Just give me a minute.”

The armiger was a great place to store tools, but he still had to dig around for the right sizes. That part never really changed. Toolbox, interdimensional pocket dimension full of magical weaponry, cooking knives, and fold up chairs? Same thing, really. The Phillip’s head was always the wrong size the first time. The little puppy didn’t have a ton of juice left in her, and Prompto was not the BEST electrician in the world. Even in the relative darkness he could feel the collective eyes of the party on his back as he worked. They didn’t talk much, but a word passed from time to time, and he began to feel very nervous. 

What if it didn’t work? 

He’d look like a complete idiot in front of some of the most influential and incredible people in Lucis. 

Who were also his friends and who would never be hard on him, because they loved him and had worked hard to earn his trust. They wouldn’t mind if he failed. But… Ardyn? Somehow, he felt like that particular set of yellow eyes was weighing on him a little heavier. He thought about what Ardyn said about being small, how small he’d feel to fail. 

Even if it was at something so stupid as a generator. 

And then a combination of wires fell into place, nearly naked and sparking, but the machine sputtered and churned under his hands. Electricity ran into it like air into lungs and it turned a little warmer under his hands. Lights along the walls flickered to life, and suddenly his friend’s forms were clear for him to see. 

None of them had been watching him at all. Noct was halfway down the corridor with Gladio behind while Iggy examined some kind of tiny, dark mushroom. Ardyn, though, was watching him. When Prompto met his gaze the man positively beamed. “Handsome and brilliant. A truly deadly combination.” 

Holy shit, the advisor to the king called Prompto hot. And he’d pretty much shared a bed with him. Though he found Ardyn attractive (let’s be honest), the thought had been lightyears from his mind. But to hear someone say something like that… Even Noct wasn’t very liberal with compliments, and Prompto was at least 69 (nice) percent sure that Noct liked him as more than a friend. 

Maybe like 71 percent sure. 

In spite of himself, he felt his cheeks going red, and the nice feeling turned a little embarrassing, so he looked at his feet. “Heh… You know. Do what I can.” 

Whooping echoed from down the corridor. “Yes! Whoo! Way to go, Prom! C’mon! We got weapons to find.” 

Iggy had words, too. “Excellent work. I’m sure the light will be very helpful.” 

And no one even really sounded surprised. Warmth gummed up his chest and he had to bite his lip to keep from tearing up. Good job, Prompto! He passed by Ardyn, and the two met eyes for a moment. And just then, for maybe a millisecond, Prompto thought the advisor was about to lean forward and touch him. 

But he didn’t. He fell in behind Prompto and the party was reunited several paces down the hallway. 

The light really didn’t help the spook factor, but at least they weren’t in danger of tripping over themselves. Eventually the earth path turned kind of metaly and the walls became actual walls, rooms, cells maybe? They passed through, almost reverently quiet, and strangely unaffected by the supposed threat. 

“Didn’t you say that this place was infested with daemons or something?” Noct asked, always the mind reader. 

“Are you complaining?” Ardyn inquired as he paused to look at yet another locked door. “I do not for the life of me remember there being so many blasted locked doors… Pardon me. I hope that you aren’t looking forward to a demonic attack, your highness. Violence doesn’t become you.” 

“Listen, it’s not like I’m itching for a fight. I was just expecting more…” Noct opened his fingers and wiggled them around, looking for the words.

“Adversity?” Iggy offered. 

“Yeah. That.” 

Prompto was about to comment on how nice it was not to be covered in various animal or daemon chunks when a loud, horrible banging noise echoed down the corridor and the lights all powered off. They were thrust head first into a veritable ocean of heavy tension and blindness, and Prompto felt that swell of fear building in the pit of his stomach. The rustling of fabric filled his ears, Gladio cursed under his breath, their lights came on. 

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! I did NOT sign up for this!” Prompto said. He whirled around to face the others, shame-faced. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I knew there wasn’t much in there, it’s-“   
Funnily, Ardyn interrupted him. “Enough. I suspect we are not alone anymore.” 

Gladio and Noct nodded in agreement, but Prompto found Iggy’s eyes still watching him. “Sorry, man,” he said softly. Iggy just nodded and behind his glasses, in the dim light, Prompto could see the wheels turning. 

Though dark, the threat didn’t seem any more prominent, they searched on in relative peace save the occasional trip over a rock, a stranded potion, or another creepy tableau tucked in a corner. Prompto stopped to take a picture of an over-turned mattress on a dirt floor because the shadow created by his light looked a little like a monster. Gladio fussed at him for wasting time, which he bit back something to the effect of ‘I’m documenting this important voyage!’. Still, though, Prompto did sting a little at the comment. 

The situation got worse the farther in they went. Though there weren’t any bodies, Prompto knew people had died there. Knew that people cowered and prayed, and they weren’t there anymore. 

One of the bigger, more horrifying doors opened up into a huge metal room with a floor a little like an old café. Counters and tables sat or laid about the floor, and Prompto guessed it must have been a cafeteria or something. In silence, they all split up to check the various sides and corners of the room. Cans. People definitely ate there. For some reason, Prompto picked one up and stared down into it. Nothing, but it gave him time to contemplate the continued pain up and down his back and thighs.   
And fine, his ass too, but he guessed that kind of went without admitting it. Too much sitting, he guessed. He never really liked being still after he’d spent so much of his time being sedentary in his youth. Just reminded him of how easy it was to let himself be weak. 

Be lesser. 

Be…

A whisper of wind in a still room. Lightening fast, Prompto had his gun out, facing just so that he could see the massive shadow that dropped from the ceiling. The bulk of the monster’s body took up the majority of the room and filled it with a distinct smell of rot and ozone that Prompto had no idea how he’d managed to miss. 

“Not alone, indeed,” Iggy called from across the room. So calm! For his part, Prompto swallowed his heart back into his chest and fired a round of shots into the leg of the thing.

Prompto caught movement out of the corner of his eye mere seconds before an acrid smell filled the room and something huge materialized from the ceiling. The sound of it hitting the floor was equal parts gross and heavy, and the shock of it nearly sent Prompto tumbling to the ground. Ignis’ voice rose from the other side of the room, filling the eerie air over the thing’s breathing. “Arachne!” 

Prompto had only a passing knowledge of what that meant and tried to sort through the bestiary he’d been forced to study, but then realized none of it mattered. The things was a big ass spider lady and she was poised to charge the shit out of a point of light so far off the ground it could only be Gladio. 

Blue streaks streamed through the air, and the thing shouted in agony or anger. Taking the opportunity, Prompto fired several shots into the side of the thing’s disturbingly human face. With a roar of anger, it turned to him and brought the humanoid arms up, gathering something that looked concerningly like lightning. With Gladio (probably), free of its wrath, Prompto could see the other man start to maneuver closer to it.

Flickers of light from Ignis’ knives shot around the thing’s spider bits, causing its many legs to fold up under itself. It crumpled onto the ground, its sickly colored hands scrambling at the ground toward Noct who held his sword even with it, staring down the edge. The distraction of Noct’s presence tore its focus away from the two enormous men who brought their massive swords down in perfect synch, separating the human bits from the spider bits. The scream she issued was as human as any, and Prompto felt his heart wrench at the expression of pain, but her human half kept clawing, kept her focus on Noct. 

Though the prince could easily handle it, Prompto raised his gun, firing slightly above the already oozing hole in her cheek directly into her eye. Her cry of agony was cut off suddenly as the life force inside her oozed onto the ground in foul smelling clumps. And then suddenly it stopped, and her body disintegrated, taking the thick miasma with it. Black and purple and stars floated toward the ceiling and Prompto struggled to capture the image. Bad angle, too fast. It wouldn’t turn out good, but… He’d never seen anything quite so beautiful. 

“Anyone hurt?” Gladio grunted out, though he was pointed at Noct. 

A rouse of responses assured everyone that besides a few scratches and possible nightmares, very little damage had been sustained. 

“Good, then,” Ardyn said. He dragged his sword first across the floor, and then up to his shoulder. “We’re close.” 

And by close, he meant in the immediate vicinity. 

The tomb was a round room, stately and somewhat understated for all the frilly stuff the royal family usually liked. At the center a stone likeness of a body so real that Prompto had to actually think about it was raised about waist height. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to take pictures, so he just went ahead and did it anyway before sliding down against one of the walls onto his ass. A jolt of unwelcome, but not unexpected pain shot up his spine. He wondered how much more he could have helped if he wasn’t feeling so… weird. Was the training really enough to prepare him? Even with a gun in his hand he somehow felt so useless. Even shooting the thing in the actual face and actually participating in killing it, he still wasn’t sure. 

Was that normal? 

Was it normal to perform exactly how he expected and still be disappointed? How much training had he already forgotten? Would he live up to Gladio and Ignis during all of this? Was that even possible?

“What do I do?” Noct asked, running a hand along the length of the stone body. Prompto looked up at him, and somehow, he felt a little better. Prince Noctis… Prompto smiled to himself as warmth flooded him. No one had told him he failed, least of all Noct.   
It was a good day.

“What princes do,” Ardyn said, utterly unhelpfully. After a few moments of silence, the man sighed and said, “how should I know, your highness? I can’t claim to have first hand experience.” 

Whatever Noct decided to do seemed to have worked. Suddenly the room was filled with a strange combination of light and magic and weapons. Or… weapon. The magic snapped and cracked in the air like glass and it soothed something deep in Prompto’s soul, and from the look on Iggy and Gladio’s faces, theirs too. 

Prompto took a last picture that evening. 

His prince, confused but proud, staring down into the stone eyes of a long dead ancestor, one glowing blue hand clutched to his chest. 

~

Iggy used the rest of their funds from the Cid hunt to get them a motel room. 

Prompto LOVED it. It was gross and dingy, and it smelled like cigarettes, but that’s exactly what he had been expecting and wanting. It was humid inside with all five of them and waiting to take showers took forever. Prompto went last, because, you know, ladies first, and by that time the water had turned ice cold. It felt amazingly horrible against his shoulders, and in the weird yellow, dirty light of the bathroom, Prompto could make out bruises along his arms and legs. Some of them were strange, long shapes that he thought were kind of pretty. He almost wanted to compare battle ‘scars’ with Gladio from the day, but nothing really seemed impressive enough. 

They divvied beds. Since they were in the same room this time, Prompto managed to get the bed that also happened to have Noct in it. Gladio and Iggy opted to sleep together five feet apart, because they weren’t gay. And Ardyn on the pull out! Fucking hilarious image, but the man wasn’t as prissy about it as Prompto had been hoping. 

By the time Noct had exhausted his interest in King’s Knight everyone else had stopped talking and gawking at Noct’s cool ass new axe. Iggy was probably already asleep, though Gladio was still sitting up in bed reading by lamplight. Ardyn… who knew. He was laying there, but Prompto could see his eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling. Probably composing a symphony in his head or something. 

He couldn’t exactly cuddle with Noct, but their legs and hands bumped against each other under the blankets. When Noct’s breath had given to a deeper, even rhythm, Prompto pulled his camera from the armiger. He sorted through and deleted several photos from the day, ultimately deciding to keep the one of the dead spider lady. Yeah, it was pretty bad, but it was still the first time Prompto had seen anything like it. 

Strangely, there were still two pictures left. He skipped immediately over the one of Noct, really not wanting to get in his feelings about the other man this late. The last one confused him for a moment.

It was him. Asleep. In the tent. When had he taken that? What a stupid thought… how had he taken it? It was definitely him, and it was pretty close to, he could clearly see the freckles above his eyebrows, and those fuckers were light. Okay, so, he couldn’t have taken it. Right? No way… He couldn’t see all of his arms, but he could see quite clearly that hands would not be on that camera. 

A mistake? Had it fallen out of the armiger? It wasn’t there when he’d woken up… Maybe Noct sneezed in his sleep or something and it fell out? Prompto felt his curiosity turning a little cold and a lot weirded out. There had to be a million explanations.   
But he couldn’t think of even one of them. 

He could make out the red of Ardyn’s hair behind him, just a bit through the negative space between his neck and shoulder. Couldn’t be him. Couldn’t… 

He swallowed and hovered his finger over the little trashcan icon. Maybe Iggy would have an idea? Maybe he should just keep it and show everyone. And then they could all have a good laugh at how stupid and paranoid something so simple had made him feel.   
Maybe he meant to, or maybe his finger slipped, but he deleted it. 

That didn’t make him feel better. 

He didn’t sleep much that night, and he kept his camera in the hand that wasn’t flirting with Noct’s. Gladio turned out the light at some point, but Prompto didn’t think he really recognized that until a long time after he did it. The hours stretched on torturously until the sun crept through one of the windows. It wasn’t a welcome sight, to be sure, but it made him feel at least a little bit safer. He allowed the camera to slip back into the armiger and closed his eyes for a few moments. Those moments didn’t last long enough for him to even drift off. 

Noct rolled over to look at him, face scrunched up. 

“What’s up?” Prompto whispered, taking the other man’s hand in his and rubbing along his knuckles. His mouth wanted to say some shit at that moment, but he really couldn’t jerk Noct around like that. He just looked… good. Felt good.   
“Head,” Noct responded. It sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth. 

Prompto was about to reach over to him when the whole building started to shake. At first, he thought it was just him, no sleep and all, but it woke everyone else and Noct’s hand tightened in his. It wasn’t a terrible shaking, but it was noticeable. Nothing went flying, no windows broke, but it was enough to make Prompto’s heart pound into his throat. Noct whimpered and actually curled against Prompto’s chest. This type of vulnerability made Prompto feel exceptionally weird and kind of protective, so he curled an arm around Noct’s shoulders and held him until it passed. “Hey, it’s over, dude. You don’t have to-“ 

“It’s my fucking head, Prom!” Noct hissed. He sat up suddenly, gasping like he’d been holding his breath the whole time, but his breathing got less shallow and he looked up. For a moment it’s like he didn’t even remember where he was. He turned around to face Prompto, who looked behind his own shoulder at everyone else. 

“I’m fine,” Noct finally said. “What was that?” 

If anyone had an answer, no one said anything.


End file.
